Raising Deuteronomy
by Tie Kerl
Summary: Old Deuteronomy becomes ill, and sends himself to the Heaviside Layer to be reborn into another life. When the leader returns without his memories, no one knows what to do. And now, he keeps dreaming of a murder. History is threatening to repeat itself...
1. The Cycle

_Disclaimer: I do not own CATS, any cats in CATS, the junkyard, or anything else in CATS. Is there anything else in CATS? If there is, I don't own them._

The Rum Tum Tugger yawned lazily. He was sprawled out over the hood of one of the multiple cars that had been left to rust in the junkyard. The sun was warm, but not too hot, perfect for lying around and doing nothing. He panned his gaze around, seeing what his fellow Jellicles were doing.

Gus was telling a story to some of the younger kittens, probably the one about the time he saved some kids from a burning building or something. Other that or it was something to give them nightmares, like a tale about Macavity or Growltiger.

Mungojerry and Rumpelteazer were discussing something. The Tugger personally didn't want to know what. The less he knew about their "business ventures", the less he had to feel guilty about.

Old Deuteronomy was seated on his tire throne, and talking to Munkustrap, who was sitting on a wooden crate, absorbing every word the old cat said. The grey tabby was the second-in-command of the Jellicles, and was expected to lead and protected the tribe when the current leader went to the Heaviside Layer.

The elder stood, and Munkustrap was immediately on his paws to steady him, and helped him walk slowly to somewhere out of the Tugger's vision range.

Rum Tum Tugger rolled his eyes. Munk had always hero-worshipped Old Deuteronomy, and it had only intensified as he got older. He was always the one listening to the protocols of the Jellicles, while the rest of the kittens were off playing tag or hide-and-go-seek. It was sad, in a way. But what that crazy tabby did with his life was none of the Tugger's business. All he wanted was a few nice queen cats to look at, and a warm patch of sun. He had both.

He closed his eyes, rolling over so that his stomach would be heated. Bad idea. He had forgotten that Mungojerry and Rumpelteazer, who were also known as the "Demonic Duo", were nearby. One moment he had been pleasantly toasty and dry, and the next he was soaked through to the skin in ice water.

"Damn it!" he cursed, jumping to his four paws as the two scampered away. "I'm going to kill the pair of you one of these days, and I'm going to sell your sorry hides for catnip!"

There were two separate sets of giggles as they bounded away and hid behind a junk pile. They were forever playing tricks on the other Jellicles. That was the third cat they had doused today, the other two being Skimbleshanks and Mistoffelees. Soaking the Railway Cat had been worth it, but they had vowed that they would think twice before pranking the magical cat again. Both of their whiskers had been badly singed.

The Rum Tum Tugger shook himself out, which made his fur puff out in a way that made him look a bit like a leopard-spotted Persian. He growled, cursing Mungojerry and Rumpelteazer under his breath.

"What's wrong, Tugger? Sleep wrong or something?" said an amused voice from behind.

The cat turned swiftly, causing his puffy tail to swing, making him look even more ridiculous.

It was Munkustrap, obviously back from worshiping the ground Old Deuteronomy walked on. He was smirking, very entertained at the sight of the egoistic Rum Tum Tugger looking like he had gone through a spin cycle in a dryer.

"Well, well, well," droned the cat sarcastically. "Look what the humans dragged in. You're just jealous because all of the queens like me and not you."

"I hate to shatter your base of existence, Rumsie, but there is more to life than chasing after females. I know this may come as a shock to you, but if you just put your head between your knees, the dizziness will pass."

"Oh, you're a riot, Munk. You really are. And who are you to talk about stuff like that? You've practically devoted your life to brown-nosing up to Old Deut," he sniffed.

Munkustrap frowned. "I do not brown-nose, Tugger. I try to learn everything I can about the Jellicles and Old Deuteronomy's past as leader so that I can make judgemental decisions when it comes time for me to rule the Jellicle tribe."

"See? There you go again. You're always so serious! Loosen up once in a while; it'll do you a world of good."

The two cats were silent from a moment, the Rum Tum Tugger sitting on the car hood trying in vain to flatten his fur down, and Munkustrap just sitting there.

"Tugger?" Munk asked finally, sound a bit nervous, which was unusual for him. "Have you noticed lately that Old Deuteronomy… hasn't been himself?"

He snorted. "Of course I have, everyone in the junkyard has. Deuteronomy's one old cat, Munk, and by old I mean old. I'd bet a ton of catnip that he's going to send himself to the Heaviside Layer next Jellicle Moon. That's only two weeks away, isn't it?"

"Twelve days, actually," he replied, sounding a bit stunned by the information. "Are you sure that he's going to send himself this year?"

"You can ask him if you like, but if you ask me, Old Deuteronomy's chasing his last ball of yarn. Sure, Gus is old, but he's got a few years left to him. Ol' Deut's old, Munk, and you know he is. Besides, it's not like he's dying or anything. He'll come back in about a year with a brand spanking new body, and all of his memories returned, just like he's done time and time again. He's lived many lives; this isn't something new to him."

Munkustrap sighed. "I know, I know. It's just that… I don't know if I'm ready to lead the Jellicles! What if I screw up so badly that everyone disbands or something, and…?"

"Would you calm down?" Tugger said, rolling his eyes. "There's no one better to lead us than you. I seriously doubt that you could have us on the Eve of Destruction in a single year without Old Deuteronomy. You'll do fine, so quit worrying."

The grey tabby was silent. Most of his life had been spent preparing for this, but he had never really thought it would come. The time when he had to rule without Old Deuteronomy confirming and correcting his orders. He didn't know if he was ready yet, but he had to try. He could see that if delayed another year, the leader would die and return without his memories.

"So," said the Rum Tum Tugger, interrupting his thoughts. "When you're leader, what would that make me?"

"The junkyard idiot," he replied, rising and padding off. "Just like always."


	2. The Name

Old Deuteronomy yawned, twitching his tail. He was curled up in his cushioned wicker cat basket which sat in the corner of his human's room. Rain pounded against the window, and drizzled down the pane. Normally, the old cat hated to stay indoors for the entire day, but he didn't like how water made his coat heavy, and it was much too cold out.

The Jellicle leader's human was still at school, as far as he knew. Deuteronomy considered the girl to be fairly decent, as far as humans went. She was the granddaughter of his original owner, and had taken over his care when her grandmother had been admitted to a nursing home that didn't allow pets.

When Old Deuteronomy had first caught wind that he was being handed over to a teenager, he didn't like the idea at all. When he thought teenager, he thought messy rooms, loud music, vulgar swearing, and late dinners.

This particular teen, however, was what her peers should be modeled after, in the cat's opinion. She was mostly quiet and reserved, preferring to spend her time reading rather than hanging out in skate parks. And she didn't read nonsense books either, good solid literature like Charles Dickens and Louisa Mary Alcott. In fact, the only books she read that Deuteronomy didn't approve of where those by Jack London. He felt that he wrote too much about dogs for his liking.

She was a musician as well as a reader, just like her grandmother. She played the piano, and Old Deuteronomy enjoyed sitting beside her on the bench as she practised classical music and waltzes, as well as a few of the calmer jazz pieces.

The thing Old Deuteronomy liked most about her, however, was that she was respectful. She didn't bow before him and address him as "O Cat", but she did leave treats in his dish and slip him scarps from her supper. She didn't grab him into rib-cracking hugs, or pull his tail. If he rubbed against her legs, she'd lift him into her lap and stroke him between the ears. He loved that, although he hated to admit it. She didn't mind if he slept on top of her laptop while it was charging, either.

The Jellicle leader glanced up at the digital clock on the bedside table. She'd be home any minute now. Probably with an essay due tomorrow that she had forgotten about. Old Deuteronomy tended to think of her as one of the tribe's kittens, who needed to be taught the proper way of doing things.

The door swung open, and the girl walked in, wringing the rain water out of her short black hair. The bottoms of her jeans were soaked; she had most likely stepped in a puddle.

"Hey, Norrington. Wet out, ain't it?"

He gave her a Look that clearly said 'isn't, not ain't'.

"Well, excuse me for not using proper grammar. And don't you give me a lecture on chewing gum, either. It's not like I'm smoking pot or anything. Honestly, Nor, sometimes I don't know if you're my cat or my grandfather."

And if you're not the very image of the Rum Tum Tugger… he thought. He didn't mind being called Norrington all that much; it was the name of one of his original owner's soap opera crushes. Quite embarrassing, really. But he knew he could have gotten stuck with much worse.

"My music lessons were cancelled, so I'm staying home this afternoon. Good thing, too, because I've got a book report due Friday. And I'll get it done in time, so quit shooting me those daggers."

The human could almost tell what her cat was trying to say when he looked at her. His brown eyes were dark but kind, and looked like they could see into her soul. They were also very expressional, and she found that when she talked to him, he almost talked back. Sometimes it wasn't a good thing.

"What did you do all day? Lie around the house?"

Old Deuteronomy yawned. Had a meeting with Munkustrap and Alonzo and possibly stopped a war between the Pollicles and the Jellicles, gave orders to attempt to befriend a neighbouring tribe before they kill us in our sleep, and foiled an attempt by the Rum Tum Tugger to pounce on Mistoffelees, therefore causing the magical cat to accidentally fry him to a cinder. You've really got to start locking the cat flap.

She sighed. "I don't know about you, Norrington. I know that a cat shouldn't do much but sleep at your age, but your paws are muddy every day, and the kitty door's nearly worn off its hinges. Why do I get the feeling you do a lot more than amble to the vicarage?"

You have no idea… he thought sleepily. He honestly wished he could talk to the girl sometimes. She'd probably go into fits of joy if she found out her cat was the leader of a tribe of singing and dancing felines.

"You are one odd beast, Nor, I'll give you that," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

The old cat rose from his basket, stretched, and slowly padded over to her, rubbing against her legs. She sighed and picked him up, gently placing him on the bed before flipping open her laptop and spreading herself out on the bed.

"You're getting old, Norrington. I'll have to remember to get Mum to book a visit with the vet. I know you hate it there, but it's for your own good. Besides, you met your friend there last time, remember?"

How could he not remember? No matter how old he got, Deuteronomy was sure he would never forget the time he happened to meet Munkustrap at the veterinarian's office.

The proud silver tabby had been forced into a pink and purple cat sweater with matching booties by his humans, not to mention a muzzle when he had tried to bite her. He had almost died from mortification when he had been spotted by Old Deuteronomy. The old cat himself had been casual, but once Munk had been hauled into the examination room, he burst into laughter, which his human's mother had mistaken for a coughing fit, which resulted in an extra half hour with the doctor as she checked his throat.

"I've got to do a book report on Anthem by Ayn Rand. That was the one where the person referred to himself as 'We' all of the time. I read that one aloud to you. I remember that because Mum heard me, and that's when she put me in therapy," she said, frowning at the thought.

Deuteronomy gave a small feline smile. His human often read books aloud to him, he quite enjoyed it, although he was perfectly capable of reading them himself, and he had a sneaking suspicion that she knew that. Her mother, however, for some reason felt that literature should be enjoyed only by humans, and had sent her daughter to a course of counselling.

"Hmm, it reflects on what the Holocaust might have turned out like, doesn't it? You should know this, Norrington, you probably lived through it."

The girl was probably joking, but she was right without knowing it. With all of his numerous lives in succession, he could trace his personal history though an encyclopaedia.

She typed for a bit, the old cat spreading out across her legs. She had gotten nearly a page done before there was a knock on her bedroom door. She carefully lifted the heavy cat off of her, and, rubbing her numb calves, answered it.

It was Travis, her cousin. While they were the same age, they were nothing alike. The boy had never read a good book in his life, and he listened to the most improper music, and the louder the better. Old Deuteronomy was not very fond of him, and hadn't been since the day they had met. Travis had been three then, and had tugged his tail, nearly pulling it out.

"Hey, Christie," he said, running a hand through his brown hair. "Wanna come down to the pizza place with everyone?"

"I've got a book report due," she said coldly. She didn't like her cousin much more than her cat did. "Besides, it's raining cats and dogs, unless you haven't noticed."

His gaze drifted to Deuteronomy. "Speaking of cats. Is that thing still living? I thought he threw in the towel years ago. Man, how old is that thing?"

"Twenty-something, I think. And give him a little respect, Travis. He's older than you are, and he deserves it."

"It's a cat, Christine. A small mammal inferior to human beings. They can't think, they can't talk, what good are they? A waste of air if you ask me."

She gritted her teeth, wishing she had the nerve to hit him. "I'm not going anywhere in that weather with those future murderers and cons that you call friends. I'm going to stay home, do my homework, get out of high school before I turn thirty, get a good job, and not live with my parents until the day I die."

He snorted, flopping down on the bed. "You need to loosen up, Chris. You're way too serious for someone your age. For starters, you should get a pet that actually does something," he said matter-of-factly, giving the cat a hard poke.

Old Deuteronomy hissed, and glared at him with a look of pure hatred.

Travis raised his eyebrows. "My god, that thing is freaky."

"One, he is not a thing, he is a cat. Two, if you poke him one more time, I'm going to tell your mom that I caught you doing crack, then I'm going to hide a plastic baggie of chalk powder in your sock drawer."

"Would you calm down? He's so old, he's probably all numb anyway," He grabbed Deuteronomy's tail, giving it a hard, firm yank.

Deuteronomy's paw flew out faster than it had moved in quite a while.

"Ow! God damn it, the thing attacked me! It damn well better have its shots!" he shouted, as red lines appeared where the cat's claws had broken skin.

"You deserved it. Now get the hell out of my room!"

"No way! That thing is crazy! I'm telling your mother to have it put down, or something!"

Christine's hand flew like Deuteronomy's paw had, and she slapped her cousin full on the face, to the surprise of all three of the room's occupants.

"Now get out!"

He glared at her, before stalking out, frowning as the cat gave a final hiss.

She sighed, sitting down on the bed beside Deuteronomy. "I'm really sorry about him, Norrington. I hate him, and you know I do. I wish he'd go bug someone else for a change. I mean, he had absolutely no right to call you inferior. You're probably a lot smarter than most of the people I know, so don't listen to him."

The old cat purred softly as she began to stroke him between the ears. His human had just defended him against one of her own kind, had actually hit him, and then had praised him for intelligence. Could the girl get any better?

"Tell you what, Mum's not home, so there's a clear path to the fridge. I'll get you a dish of cream, and I'm pretty sure there's salmon left over from dinner last night. What do you say?"

Deuteronomy meowed in response, and stiffly rose. Obviously she could.

Christine lifted him into her arms, and walked towards the stairs. "I've really got to get the vet to check out that leg of yours. You've been limping on it, haven't you?"

Later that night, it was still rainy and dark. Christie was on the couch of the rec room outside of her basement bedroom, re-reading her paperback copy of Anthem aloud, while her cat lay by her feet, listening.

He gave a content sigh. His human was really something, for a kid. Respectable, humble, and always willing to slip a little token of esteem his way. He had lived with her for two and a half years now, and she had treated him well the entire time. He decided that it was time to give something back.

Deuteronomy rose, and walked down her leg to sit on her stomach.

She looked up from the book. "What's wrong, Norrington? Your leg bothering you?"

He held out his paw like he would if he was greeting a Jellicle, and gave her a look that he hoped displayed sincerity.

She set down her book. "What do you want? Want me to shake your paw? I thought only dogs had to lower themselves to that level to get attention," She placed her hand out, and put her palm to the cat's paw. Then it hit her like a ton of bricks.

It was a name. Over and over again. Deuteronomy. Deuteronomy. Deuteronomy.

Her eyes shot open, although she hadn't been aware that she had closed them. The cat was still on her stomach, staring at her with a look of knowingness. She put a hand to her head, making sure a fever wasn't causing her to imagine things.

"Deuteronomy… That's your name, isn't it?"

He gave a small nod.

"My god. I don't know what that was, but thanks, Deuteronomy. Is it just me, or does that name really fit you? I'll still have to call you Norrington around my family. I guess your second name will be our secret, huh?"

He gave another nod, and slowly limped back down to the foot of the couch and curled up. He looked back at her as if to say 'Where were we?'.

Christie frowned for a second when she saw the limp in the cat's walk, but it disappeared when she picked the book back up. "I have got to get you to the vet's, Deuteronomy. Now, where were we?"


	3. The Layer

Christine held the sleeping cat as gently as she could, and placed him in his basket, careful not to put any pressure on his right hind leg. She bit her lip, trying desperately not to cry. She wanted to cry, but she was thirteen, and thirteen-year-olds weren't supposed to cry over their cat dying.

Deuteronomy had gone to the vet's, and it hadn't ended well. She had detected a cancerous lump in his leg, and had surgically removed it. Later tests, however, showed that the cancer hadn't only been in his leg, it had spread throughout his body. Even with treatment, he would die anyway.

She sat cross-legged on the floor beside the cat basket, the tears starting to flow, despite the resistance. Cancer was something that happened to hot blondes on cheesy soap operas, not to a teenager's cat. It wasn't fair.

The veterinarian had suggested that he be put down, so that he wouldn't be in any pain. Christie had begged for a little time, to say goodbye. She knew she needed to, she just didn't know how.

There was a slight squeak as the cat door swung open, and three tom cats padded slowly into the room. She was used to various cats dropping by to visit Deuteronomy, she thought nothing of it.

The three there she had named Streak, Simba, and Tux. Streak was a silver tabby with streaking stripes, Simba had a great mane, and Tux honestly looked like he was wearing a tuxedo.

She wiped her eyes, embarrassed. "He's sleeping right now, but he should wake up soon. Just don't get him frazzled, he just had an operation." She walked out of the room, leaving the cats to their business.

Streak, better known as Munkustrap, eyed her until she was out of the room. "That human is odd. I don't trust her farther than I could throw her."

Simba (a.k.a. The Rum Tum Tugger) snorted. "Crazy, yes. Dangerous, probably not. Living with her, no wonder Old D's half insane."

"Although my body may have seen better days," said a voice that made them jump. "I can assure you, Rum Tum Tugger, that my mind is in perfect condition."

"Tugger's just kidding, Old Deuteronomy," Tux, also called Mistoffelees, said hurriedly. "We didn't wake you, did we? Your human said you just had an operation."

He sighed heavily. "Unfortunately, this is true. Not at all pleasant, I can assure you. And in the long run, it didn't change a thing."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Munk, frowning.

"I will not lie to you, Munkustrap. I am dying, and I won't make it past this Jellicle Moon. I believe I can hold out until then, and send myself to the Heaviside Layer to be reborn."

"But you have healing magic!" protested Mistoffelees. "What's wrong with you that you can't fix? With your level of power, it would have to be strong."

He raised an eyebrow, opening his eyes for the first time since the toms had entered. "You seem to know a bit about my powers, eh Mistoffelees?"

The magical cat bowed low in apology. "I'm sorry, Old Deuteronomy. I just, well, you know…"

"No need for that, Mistoffelees. In any case, I suppose you three deserve to know the truth," He took a breath before beginning again. "I believe it was two months ago, possibly a bit more, and my human was asleep in her bed. I was curled up beside her, musing over my third name. Suddenly, something hit me. At the time, I didn't know what it was, only that it wasn't good."

"You were detecting an illness!" exclaimed Misto.

"Correct. I knew it wasn't in me, so I turned to the only other being in the room, my human. I used my magic to check over her body, and something turned up. I checked her neck, and there was a lump there."

"Cancer," said Munkustrap automatically. The female human in his house was always watching shows about that on the TV.

"Yes, it was. I knew that if it was left there, she would die. I honestly couldn't allow that to happen to such a decent human, and at such a young age. So I removed it."

"But it would have to go somewhere," frowned the Rum Tum Tugger, recalling something Mistoffelees had once told him about magical healings.

"I know," he said, looking at them with sad eyes. "I put it somewhere."

"You transferred it to yourself?!" shouted Munkustrap. "You put a deadly disease in your body that you knew would kill you to save a human girl!"

"I can be reborn, Munkustrap," Deuteronomy said calmly. "She can't."

The silver tabby gritted his teeth, but said nothing. If Old Deuteronomy thought it was right, then he would believe it was right. But he wished he wouldn't make it so difficult.

"The Jellicle Moon's in three days," said the Rum Tum Tugger. "Hang on until then, and we'll come get you before the Ball starts, okay?"

He nodded. "I do not mean to be rude, but it would be greatly appreciated if you do not visit me until then, unless it is absolutely necessary. I need time to organize my thoughts."

They all bowed, and said "Yes, Old Deuteronomy" simultaneously before moving to leave the room.

"Munkustrap, come here for a moment."

He hung back, and sat before him. "Yes?"

"While I am gone, I will need you to lead and protect the tribe while I am gone. That would mean that the safety of every one of the Jellicle cats would be your responsibility. Can I trust you with that responsibility?"

The silver tabby was silent. He didn't know what to say. Everything that he had been fretting over the last nine days had become a reality. It was like his inner windshield had been cracked, and now it was falling to pieces. But then he realized something. For the last year at least, it had been him making most of the decisions. Old Deuteronomy had asked for his opinion, and often used it. The old cat had tricked him into thinking that it was nothing.

"Well," Deuteronomy asked, smiling as a look dawned on the young tom's face. "Can I trust you with the safety of the Jellicle tribe?"

"Yes," he said, smiling inside but remaining stone faced on the outside. "You can."

The next three days went by slowly. The old cat slept through most of the day, but he also thought deeply about his happy memories, those that survived the Heaviside Layer, and would allow him to re-access the rest. He thought of his days spent as a younger cat and horsing around with the other toms, of lying in the sun while the kittens played Pounce, of sitting on the piano bench as his original owner played pieces of classical music, and of curling up on his current human's stomach as she read to him.

He tried to keep up hope, but his leg pained him greatly, as did the rest of his body. He couldn't walk more than several steps, and it got worse as time went on. He had noticed his human crying a lot. He wished he could tell her that he was going to be reborn, that he would be happy again, and that he had saved her life. But even eyes such as his couldn't say all those things.

The night of the Jellicle Moon was a Friday. Christine's parents were out to dinner with some of their friends, and would probably not be home until after midnight. She was stretched on the couch, trying to read A Wrinkle In Time, but her heart wasn't into it.

The cat flap squeaked a bit as Streak, Simba, and Tux entered, and padded into her bedroom. She looked up for a moment, only to return to her book, only to put it down and rise from the couch.

The Rum Tum Tugger had to admit, Old Deuteronomy didn't look good. He looked old and tired, and somehow seemed pale. He could also see that the old cat was in pain.

Munkustrap noticed this too. "Can you stand?"

He shakily rose to his paws, but could only support himself for a second before having to lie down. Even with the help of the three toms, all of the cats knew they could never make it to the junkyard.

Unknown to them, Christie was watching from the doorway. They were trying to help him walk, she reasoned. But to where? It must be important.

"Maybe we could put him in a blanket and carry him," suggested Mistoffelees.

Munk shook his head. "I think that three cats carrying another in a sheet would seem a bit strange to humans watching. We can't magic him there, he wouldn't survive. Oh, how are we going to do this?"

"Um, excuse me?" said the girl, making her presence known. "I know I'm a human, and I can't understand you, and you probably don't trust me, but I can help. You need to get Deuteronomy somewhere, don't you?"

"She knows your proper name?" hissed Munkustrap.

The old cat shrugged. "She deserved to know it."

"I can carry him there," she continued. "You can lead me there, and I can bring him. I have a feeling that you all know something I don't, and I probably never will. But if Deuteronomy trusts me, then I can trust you."

"What do we do?" asked the Rum Tum Tugger, looking towards the leader. "Should we lead her to the junkyard?"

"We can trust her," said Old Deuteronomy. "She's a good human. Wise beyond her years, as the saying goes."

"Mistoffelees, magic back to the junkyard after we go," ordered Munkustrap. "Tell all of the Jellicles to hide. We'll have the human bring Old Deuteronomy there, then leave."

Deuteronomy gave his human a look of approval.

Christine threw a windbreaker over her sweatshirt, as it looked like it was about to rain, and used a thick brown blanket from her closet to bundle Deuteronomy up, extremely careful not to put any pressure on his bad leg. She cradled him in her arms, as the cats she knew as Streak and Simba led her down the streets of London. Thankfully, they didn't meet many people. One man asked, and she said she was taking her sick cat to the vet's, which was really only a half lie. He was her cat, and he was sick. They weren't going to the vet's, but she was sure that wherever they were going, Deuteronomy's misery would be ended.

When they reached the junkyard, it was deserted except for Tux, who was sitting near a tire. Christie placed the old cat on it, and pulled the blanket away from his face. He was giving her an odd little feline smile.

She grinned sadly. "I'm going to miss you, Deuteronomy," she said, stroking him between the ears.

He looked up at her with his deep brown eyes as if to say 'don't worry'.

Tears began to fall. "I won't. Although I don't know how I'm going to get my schoolwork in on time without you reminding me about it. Thank you for letting me know your name." With that, she stroked him one last time, then left.

Once she was gone, the Jellicles crept out of their hiding places, and gathered around the tire.

"An odd girl," commented Alonzo.

Deuteronomy gave a weak smile. "Yes, she most certainly is."

Munkustrap, who was at his side, gave his paw a quick squeeze. "Are you ready, Old Deuteronomy?"

He looked at the silver tabby, his eyes holding a fierce look despite his condition. "Yes, of course. You remember your promise?"

"Yes, Old Deuteronomy, I do."

"Don't make me regret it," he said, smiling, as the tire began to rise.

The Jellicles sang, although their hearts weren't all into it. They were sad to see the old cat go, even if they knew that he would be reborn. The Jellicle Moon where a leader was sent to the Heaviside Layer was a solemn one.

As soon as the floating tire touched back down, Munkustrap felt something rush into him. He knew instantly what it was. It was the key to the Heaviside Layer. He now possessed it. He wouldn't mess it up, he told himself firmly. He was going to make Old Deuteronomy proud.


	4. The Rebirth

"Munkustrap's gone off again."

The Rum Tum Tugger opened one eye to see Demeter standing in front of him, a worried look on her face. "You woke me up to tell me that?"

"He looked really depressed."

"And that's news because…."

"I'm worried."

"Obviously."

"Do you know what's wrong with him?"

He yawned, and sat up. "He's brooding because he misses Old Deuteronomy. The leader was like a father to him, you know that. Besides, it's been almost a year and a half, and he hasn't come back yet.

That was true. A Jellicle Moon had come and gone since the one that Deuteronomy left on. Munkustrap had sent Gus up to the Heaviside Layer.

"He's disappointed that he didn't turn up in Cassandra's or Jellylorum's litters, too," he added, remembering how the tabby and Alonzo had nearly paced a hole through to China the night of Cass's delivery.

"How could I forget? Dear little Grizabella, Asparagus, and Chelonian. One kitten with faint memories, one kitten with most memories but a kitten-like attitude, one normal kitten, and four cats who don't have a clue how to raise kittens that are older then they are. Do I have to mention the fact that Jelly gave birth to her own father-in-law?"

"They act like kittens, though, so I suppose it's not that bad."

"What would you know about raising kittens, Tugger?"

"Absolutely nothing. Can I go back to sleep now?"

"Fine, just go back to being an insensitive jackass of a tom!" she huffed.

"'Kay," he muttered, lying down and closing his eyes.

Demeter got right down beside his ear. "Know what, Tugger?"

"Wha?"

"I was being sarcastic!" she hollered at the top of her lungs, nearly blowing out the poor tom's eardrum. She stalked off, hoping she could startle Mistoffelees into setting his tail on fire. She didn't usually get pleasure from the pain of others, but she was in a bad mood, and felt that everyone else deserved to be.

The Rum Tum Tugger rubbed his sore ear with a hind paw. He had no idea what had gotten into Demeter. He figured it must have been 'that time of month' or something. The large tom rose, and trotted over to where Munkustrap was sitting.

The silver tabby was on the junkyard fence, staring out at the sun, which was preparing to set. He was trying to clear his mind to be able to focus on one problem at a time, like Old Deuteronomy had taught him to do. So far, it wasn't working.

While it was true the tribe hadn't fallen to pieces during its true leader's absence, they hadn't exactly been flourishing. They had narrowly avoided a battle with the Pollicles the month before. Munkustrap thanked the Everlasting Cat that the dogs weren't all that bright, as they had only gotten out of it after threatening to send the Great Rumpus Cat after them.

In all truth, it wasn't just the wisdom and knowledge Munk missed, it was the stories that all of the Jellicles would gather to listen to. It was the long talks on starry nights when any cat had a problem they couldn't solve. If anything was wrong, one could almost always find Old Deuteronomy either on the Vicarage Wall or on the front stoop of his human's house, ready to lend an ear or a shoulder to cry on.

Munkustrap sighed. He had tried to be the best leader he could be, but he just couldn't compare to Old Deuteronomy. There was just no way he could ever live up to the tom, and he knew it. He had kept up hope that any day he would return, but his hope was starting to fade.

"Munk? You alright?" asked the Rum Tum Tugger leaping up onto the fence to sit beside him.

"Yeah, I'm just fine. I'm just dealing with every single problem every single Jellicle has, while trying to keep my sanity. I have no idea how Old Deuteronomy handled this all without having a mental breakdown."

The two toms were silent for a moment, as they watched the setting sun.

"You know," started the Tugger. "They say that Old Deuteronomy did break down once. They say he almost killed himself out of grief."

"You're kidding," the tabby said automatically. "He was- is- always so calm and cool. I can't see him trying to commit suicide."

The Rum Tum Tugger shrugged. "Hey, it's just the Grapevine. But they say that in his last life, you know, before last year, something really bad happened, I don't know what. They found him the day after, sleeping on the roof of the Vicarage. He told them that he was going to jump, but then he thought of his moments of happiness, and pulled himself through."

"Fake rumours," Munkustrap replied, unyielding. "Old Deuteronomy would never try to kill himself. He's much more level-headed than that. Besides, he's lived so many lives, what could hit him that hard?"

He gave another shrug. "I don't know. Like I said, the Grapevine."

More silence. It was making Tugger fidgety, he wasn't used to long periods without screaming and hollering, which reflected on what kind of kitten he had been. Now, of course, Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer caused most of the mischief, but he was still known to pull a trick or two.

"He'll be back, don't worry," the large tom finally said. "They was probably a backup up in the Heaviside Layer or something, You know, Grizabella and Gus were reborn at almost the same time, so Old Deuteronomy has to wait so long before he can be reborn."

"Tugger," sighed Munkustrap. "That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard. I'm going for a walk." He nimbly jumped off of the fence, neatly landing on his feet.

"Stay away from Demeter!" Tugger hollered as he left. "Trust me on this one!" Once the tabby was gone, he shook his head sadly. Munk really needed to get himself a queen. Anyone but Demeter.

Munkustrap trotted slowly through the alleyways, not really going anywhere. What in Heaviside was he going to do if the Pollicles figured out his bluff and attacked? They'd all be killed for sure, even if they enlisted the help of other tribes. Any what if Macavity attacked? He sighed. It all seemed so helpless.

Suddenly, his ears twitched. Something, someone, was crying. It sounded like a kitten. The tabby cautiously crept around the corner, and what he saw nearly knocked the stripes straight off of him.

It was a kitten, but not just any kitten. It was tiny, and its coat was a mixture of different shades of grey with a few tinges of brown here and there, and might have been described as a tabby at a stretch. Its fur was matted with dirt and what seemed to be a bit of blood, and the fur around its face was wet with tears.

The tabby knew immediately who the kit was. Although it was obviously young, it appeared to have an aura of wisdom and kindness, and its deep brown eyes seemed to hold the secrets of the world.

Munkustrap immediately dropped into a bow, his forehead touching the ground. "Old Deuteronomy! You have finally returned to the Jellicle tribe!"

The sobbing stopped, and there was a soft padding noise as the kitten walked forward. He stooped, and peeked at the silver tabby's face. "Um, do I know you?"

He rose quickly. "Of course you know me! I'm Munkustrap, your second-in-command!"

"Second-in-command?" he asked, obviously confused. "Of what?"

Munkustrap was stunned. "Of the Jellicle tribe, of course! Don't you…"

There was a deep barking noise. Both cats spun around to see a huge Pollicle bounding towards them. He didn't look like he was very friendly.

The tabby's mind instantly went into strategy mode. He could get away, but Deuteronomy, in his kitten body, couldn't. There was only one option. It may not have been dignified for a leader of Old Deuteronomy's status, but it would get them out alive.

He gave a hasty bow. "I am very sorry, Old Deuteronomy."

"For wha… AAAAAAHHHH!"

Munkustrap grabbed the kitten by the scruff of the neck and grasped him firmly in his teeth, but as gently as he could manage. He set out at a dead run, bolting down the alleyway, the Pollicle nipping at his tail. Literally.

He looked back. The dog was much too close for comfort. Time for a little change in plans. He jumped onto a wooden crate, trying to keep a tight hold on the squirming leader in his mouth. He leapt onto the dumpster, and then onto the windowsill behind it.

The Pollicle skidded, and slammed against the dumpster, causing the open lid to fall heavily, clipping Munkustrap in the shoulder, and making him drop Old Deuteronomy.

The kitten fell onto the now closed dumpster. His head hit the metal, and he was knocked unconscious. Munkustrap jumped down, and took him in his mouth again. He jumped over the Pollicle, and took off.

The Pollicle growled, but trotted home instead of pursuing. Too much work for too little meat, that's all cats were…

Munkustrap paused to make sure he had a firm grip on the unconscious not-so-old Deuteronomy, then he ran as fast as he could towards the junkyard.


	5. The Reality

AN: Just a quick little note: Some phrases or terms might be a little weird, as I live in Canada (it's a whole other language, eh?), and I'm not sure if anywhere else uses them. 'Gone off' means to kind of space out, have your head in the clouds, ect. It's often been used to describe me.

The kitten's head was spinning. What had happened? There was that tabby, he didn't catch his name. He had bowed to him, and called him something. He was the leader of something, and had returned from somewhere. It was all very confusing.

He suddenly became aware of voices over his head.

"Are you sure it's him?" questioned a tom. "I mean, it looks exactly like him, but he's just so… tiny."

"I think he's adorable," cooed a queen.

"You do know that that's your father, Jenny?" said another tom, slightly familiar. "And yes, I'm sure it's him. You'd be tiny too if you had been reborn."

"I don't know," said the first tom. "How can we be sure? I mean, we don't want to jump the gun and end up with the wrong kitten."

"Look he's waking up!" observed the queen.

The kitten opened his eyes. The silver tabby from before, a large tom with a magnificent mane, and a kindly-looking orange-coloured female were all leaning over him.

"Look at his eyes!" exclaimed the tabby. "Look at his eyes, and tell me that's not Old Deuteronomy!"

"By the Everlasting Cat," whispered the tom with the mane. "It is him. Welcome back, Old Deuteronomy!"

The queen nuzzled him fondly. "I've missed you, Father."

"F-Father?" he stammered. "Wait a minute, who are you cats? What am I doing here?" He looked around, and discovered he was inside of an old car.

"I'm Munkustrap, sir," said the tabby, frowning. "This is the Rum Tum Tugger, and your daughter, Jennyanydots. Don't you remember anything?"

He shook his head slowly. "What should I be remembering?"

"Um, maybe your entire life, excuse me, lives," said the Rum Tum Tugger. "You're Old Deuteronomy, you've lived a long time, you're a cat who has lived many lives in succession. Any of this ringing a bell?"

He continued to shake his head. "My name is… Deuteronomy? Why am I called old? I'm just a kitten."

"You sent yourself to the Heaviside Layer, and you were reborn," said Munkustrap, worry in his voice. "You must have lost your memories somewhere along the line. What do you know?"

"I was born on the street and my mother abandoned me and my brother," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "I remember my brother didn't look a thing like me, and neither did my mother. My brother was caught by the humans, but I escaped. I wandered around, eating out of dumpsters for a few weeks, and then you found me."

"Oh, poor little thing! To think you had to live like that! Why, I remember when I was still young, you raised me even after Mother…" Jennyanydots stopped. "Oh, never mind. I sound like I'm crazy don't I?"

He nodded slowly.

The Rum Tum Tugger sighed. "Alright, here's the rundown. Your name is Old Deuteronomy, and you are the leader of the Jellicle tribe. Once a year on the Jellicle Moon, you select a cat to go to the Heaviside Layer to be reborn into a new life. The time before last, you chose yourself, so you were reborn as a kitten, even though you're probably several hundred years old, give or take a decade."

The kitten blinked. "Whoa."

"You don't remember anything?" prompted Munkustrap. "Nothing? Search your mind, and see if you have any memories of anything we just described."

He screwed his eyes shut, and racked his brain. After half a minute, he finally said "I remember a pain in my right hind leg. Is that anything?"

"That's the leg you limped on," said Munk, nodding. "You had cancer in it. The vet removed it, but it was everywhere in your body. You would have died if you hadn't gone to the Heaviside Layer."

"Cancer?" he questioned. "Vet? What's all that?"

"Never mind," he said quickly, not wanting to take the time to explain it. "Maybe we should show you around the junkyard, and see if anything triggers any of your memories. Can you stand?"

He nodded, and rose to his four paws quickly. He followed the three cats out of the car, and he squinted at the bright sun, which was just beginning to set. It felt good on his face, however.

"Hey, Munk!" shouted a calico-like tom, bounding up with a nearly identical queen beside him. "Who's the fleabag?"

"That is no fleabag, Mungojerrie," said Munkustrap stiffly.

"Come on, now, Jerrie! He's so tiny and cute!" insisted the queen. "What's your name, kit?"

"Er," was all he could manage.

"Er? That's a funny name!" chuckled Mungojerrie. He grabbed the kitten by the scruff of the neck, lifting him high up. He gently tossed him to the queen, causing the tiny thing to giggle with joy.

"Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer!" hollered the tabby. "Put him down! Now!"

Rumpel tossed him back to Mungo. "Quit being such a stuffed shirt, Munk. He likes it!"

The tom placed him on the ground. "Leave it to Munk to spoil all the fun. Honestly, sometimes I think that… Oh Everlasting Cat, it's him!" The pair saw it at the exact same time, and dropped into identical bows.

"We're honestly sorry, Old Deuteronomy," Mungojerrie stammered. "If we'd known it was you… If you'd have said something… We're really sorry!"

"It was fun," replied the kitten, looking at them strangely. "And why does everyone keep bowing at me? I'm not a king or anything."

Rumpelteazer looked up. "You practically are a king! You're our leader!"

"I still don't understand what all this leader stuff is about!" he protested. "One moment I'm picking food out of the garbage in an alley, and the next I'm being bowed to!"

"He doesn't remember anything from his past lives," supplied Munkustrap. "He doesn't remember the Jellicles, the junkyard, not even his name."

"Yeah, what is my name again?" asked the kitten. "Deutonmy?"

"Deuteronomy," corrected the tabby.

"You don't even remember me?" asked Teazer, sounding hurt. "Your favourite- if only- granddaughter?"

"I have a granddaughter?" he practically shouted. "I'm a few months old, and I've got a full family! Am I going crazy?"

The second-in-command sighed. "This must all be very confusing for you, so let's take it slow. We'll all reintroduce ourselves, and see if you remember anything. My name is Munkustrap. You found me when I was a kitten, and brought me to the junkyard you raised me to be your second, as your only true heirs were more interested in stealing than leading."

"Munku… Munkust…" he stuttered. "Er, can I jut call you Munk?"

"Why not?" he said, sighing.

The Gumbie Cat stepped forward. "I'm your only child, Jennyanydots. My mate is Skimbleshanks, and Rumpelteazer and Mungojerrie are my kittens. I was named after my mother's mother."

"Jenny, got it," he said nodding.

Munkustrap flicked an ear in annoyance, although no one else noticed. Old Deuteronomy had never shortened their names before, and always called them by their full Jellicle names. It just sounded odd.

"Granddad, I'm Rumpelteazer, your precious eldest grand-kitten," said the calico queen, despite the fact that four sets of eyes were simultaneously rolling. "I wasn't much for leading the Jellicles, so Munk here took all the training. If my name's too long, just call me Teazer. I basically like stealing from humans."

"Why do you like to steal?" he asked, cocking his head questioningly.

She shrugged. "I don't know, it's something to do."

"It's something we're good at," added the youngest tom. "Mungojerrie, also known as Jerrie. I was born not even a minute after Teazer, so I don't see how she got the title as eldest. We both live in Victoria Grove, and you were always telling us to calm down."

"I am, as you know, the Rum Tum Tugger," said the large cat, having been silent recently. "I'm the stud of the tribe, and all of the queens go crazy for me. If you need any advice in the female area, feel free to ask me."

"Don't ask him anything," whispered Jennyanydots in the kitten's ear. "He's a complete idiot."

Deuteronomy giggled, making the proud tom frown.

The silver tabby also frowned. Giggling. He was giggling. This was not like Old Deuteronomy at all. He had been completely wiped of his memories, and with the loss of them gained a kittenish attitude. This wasn't the serious, although kind, Jellicle leader. Even though it was. It was confusing.

"We're going to have to find somewhere for him to stay," said Munkustrap finally. "He's too young to stay in the junkyard, not to mention he's a target for Macavity and his thugs. Jenny, can he stay with you and your humans?"

The orange Gumbie shook her head. "I'm sorry, but my humans won't let any more cats in the house. They were kind enough to let Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer stay, and they have the humans at their wit's end."

"Tugger, I almost hate to ask…"

"After what I'm like, do you think my humans want more?" snorted the Rum Tum Tugger. "No way, they'd throw him out on his furry little…"

Jenny swatted him over the head. "Little ears!" she hissed.

Munkustrap sighed. "He'll have to stay with me, then. My humans have two kittens of their own, the little monsters will be glad to have another cat to torture. We'll introduce him to the tribe tomorrow, so spread the word of a meeting tomorrow night."

The three other Jellicles nodded.

"Come on, Old Deuteronomy. I'll lead you to my house," the sliver tabby said, starting off towards the road.

The grey trotted behind him obediently, his deep brown eyes following the movement of the older cat's swishing tail. He concluded that he liked the idea of being a Jellicle. So far, anyway.


	6. The Nightlight

"Remember, when they open the door, put on your best cute face, and try to make your eyes big, like you're about to cry," said Munkustrap, sitting on the front step.

"Like this?" Deuteronomy asked, sticking his bottom lip and widening his deep brown eyes so that, if one looked close enough, one could almost see tears forming.

The tabby blinked. "Wow. That's good. Alright, I'll scratch on the door, and they'll open it. Just keep that face on. And it wouldn't hurt to throw in a few weak, helpless meows." He clawed at the door, yowling like a crow.

Inside, a female human sighed. She really had to convince her husband to install a cat flap instead of having that animal ruin the door every time he wanted in or out. She walked into the entry hall, and opened the door. To her surprise, there wasn't one grey cat, there were two.

The second was much smaller, and was a multicoloured blend of greys, instead of her own cat's sleek tabby silver. He had big brown eyes that seemed to say 'love me', and he had the Look kittens could give so well.

"Aw! How adorable! Did you bring home a little friend, Theodore?" she cooed, picking the tiny cat up and cradling him in her arms. "And what's your name, little one? Oh my, you don't seem to have a collar. Are you a stray, darling?"

Deuteronomy had no idea who Theodore was, but he widened his big brown eyes even more, and stuck his bottom lip out further. Cuteness, full throttle.

"A kitten as small and as adorable can't be out on the streets all alone! It's my duty as a good citizen to take you in before you get hit by a car. But what will George say? Oh, never mind him! You'll stay here until we can find you a home of your own!"

She carried Deuteronomy into the kitchen, with the tabby following behind her. She put out two bowls of cat food and two bowls of water.

The tiny kitten quickly dug into the dish of food. It had been the first decent meal he had had in… He couldn't even remember. It was paradise.

Munkustrap ate more slowly, and kept glancing over at the Jellicle leader, making sure he wasn't going to inhale the stuff. All he needed was to tell the tribe their leader had come back and then choked on a dish of cat kibble.

"You'll need a name, of course," said the human, who had been sitting at the table. "Something dignified, you have such a regal look to you, especially in your eyes. How about… Alexander! Alexander the Great! I'll get you a collar tomorrow, and your own bowls, too. And I'll have to take you to the vet's for shots and a check-up. And you'll need some kitten food, Theodore's stuff will be too rough in the long term."

"Munk?" said Deuteronomy, finally slowing down enough to talk. "Why's she calling me a different name? And who's Theodore?"

"Every Jellicle cat has three different names," explained the tabby patiently. "There's his common name, the name humans call him. Mine is Theodore, and yours is now Alexander. But don't worry about that, only humans will call you that."

"Oh, good. I don't really like the name Alexander," he said, wrinkling his pink nose.

"The second name is their Jellicle name, which is given to a kitten by the Jellicle leader, you. I've been doing it in your absence, of course. My Jellicle name is Munkustrap, and you are called Old Deuteronomy."

"But if I name the cats," he said slowly. "Then who named me?"

Munkustrap opened his mouth for an explanation, and then closed it. "You know, I don't actually know. I suppose someone in your first life did. I'll have to ask Jennyanydots tomorrow, she might know. In any case, there's also a third name. Only the cat knows his third name, and can never tell anyone. The third name is born with the cat, and is inside of them."

"I understand that bit," he said proudly. "The third name is more like a feeling, right? Deep down inside and you can't really describe it, but you know what the name is."

The silver cat nodded. "Exactly. Any more questions?"

"What's the vet?"

"She's a person who treats you when you're sick, and gives you needles so you don't get sick. It's not really a pleasant experience, but I suppose it's for our own good."

"I think I remember something about that place…" Deuteronomy said slowly. "You were there, and you were wearing something. But I can't remember what it was…"

"I don't think that was anything," said Munkustrap hurriedly. "In any case, the human female will put you in this cage and drive you to this big building. You sit in the cage for a bit, then you move into this smaller room, and you come out. The vet weighs you and checks your heartbeat and your ears and stuff like that, and then she gives you needles if you need them. Then, you go back in the cage and come home, and the humans usually give you extra food that night."

"Do the needles hurt?" he asked apprehension in his voice.

"Not much, just a bit of a prick. And she gives you a treat afterwards if you don't try to bite her," Munkustrap didn't bother adding that he himself didn't get many treats.

The kitten's face relaxed. "Good. I remember pain, like when I fell on the dumpster, and when a big tom scratched me when I was living on the street," He paused, before continuing slowly. "But I remember more pain. Pain all over my body, but it really hurt in my right hind leg. I don't know why."

Munkustrap frowned. The pain had obviously been felt in his last years in his former life. But Deuteronomy had told him that happy memories were usually recalled first over the sad and painful ones.

"I don't hurt now," the small tom said hurriedly, seeing the look on the tabby's face.

"That's good," he said, dropping the scowl. "It seems you have some memories of your former life, Old Deuteronomy, they just don't fit together. Maybe if you can string together what you remember, you'll have total recall."

The door swung open with a bang as it hit the wall. Two male human kittens ran into the kitchen. One looked to be about ten, and the other had to be around six.

"Mom! Mom! Jared won his football game!" squealed the younger one, obviously very proud of his elder sibling.

The older boy was calmer, and a bit more observant. "Hey, it's a kitten! Dad! Mom got us a new kitten!"

"She got you a what?" asked the adult tom human, who had just walked in. "Carol, I thought we agreed on no more pets."

"Oh, but George! He was out on the streets alone, and look how tiny he is! And you can see the poor thing's ribs straight through his fur, he hasn't been eating well."

"Look how dirty he is! He could have parasites or rabies or something!" he protested.

"I'll give him a bath in the morning and take him to the vet's."

"Can we please keep him, Daddy?" begged the smaller boy. "Please?"

He sighed. "Oh alright, Ben. We'll keep it until we can find him a home. But he's not staying here forever, got it? One cat's enough!"

"I named him Alexander," offered the female, as the older boy, Jared, picked up the kitten and cuddled him.

"He's so fluffy!" exclaimed Ben, petting his tail.

"And small!" agreed his brother. "Poor little kitty! Is Theo your big brother?"

Deuteronomy seemed to love the attention. He swished his tail around and licked Jared with his tiny pink tongue. He didn't protest to being held at all.

"Alright, you two, put the kitty down," said their father. "I'll get him a box to sleep in for tonight, you wash up for dinner."

Munkustrap led the kitten down to the basement, where the human put a box lined with an old blanket. The tabby curled up in his cat basket, while the leader settled into the box. Normally the tabby wouldn't have turned in so early, but it had been a long day.

"Try to get some sleep, alright? You're going go be reintroduced to the Jellicles tomorrow, so you'll need your rest"

The kitten nodded obediently.

"Good night, Old Deuteronomy," he said, tucking his head into his arm.

There was silence, and then darkness as one of the humans shut the basement door.

"Munk?" whispered the kitten in a quiet voice.

"What?" he asked, already half asleep.

"I'm scared of the dark," he whimpered.

"A cat that's afraid of the dark? You've got to be kidding me."

"I'm not. I don't know what it is, I just don't like it. I can remember being tied up in the dark, and big rats were all around me but I couldn't see them and Ijusthatethedark," he stammered out quickly.

The tabby sighed. That must have been when he was captured by Macavity. He rose, and rummaged through a box of stuff the humans had left open until he found what he was looking for. Holding it in his mouth, he trotted over to the electrical socket, and butted it into the outlet with his head. Munkustrap flicked a switch with his paw, and a pale glow of orange flooded the corner of the room.

"Better?" he asked, turning to the kitten.

"Much," the Jellicle leader said, nodding. "Thanks."

"No problem," he yawned, curling back up in his basket. "Now get to sleep, you've got a big day ahead of you tomorrow."

There was several more minutes of silence.

Before long, however, the silver tabby felt something poking him. He opened one eye. "What is it now?"

"Munk," he started unsurely. "It's kind of cold down here and I know there's a light and it helps but I still can't see everything and… Can I sleep with you in your basket?"

Munkustrap considered sending him back to his box, but then he thought back to the days after Deuteronomy had fished him out of the gutter when he had been a kitten himself. The tabby had spent at least a week huddled against the old cat until he had regained his strength.

He sighed. "Climb in."

The kitten gave him a broad smile, and curled up tightly against his stomach. "Thanks. Night, Munk."

"Good night, Old Deuteronomy," he said, settling his head down, and finally falling asleep without any interruptions.


	7. The Tribe

When Munkustrap first opened his eyes in the morning, he found that another set of eyes were watching him. Huge, brown ones.

"AAAHHH!" he shouted, jumping what he thought must have been five feet in the air, before landing on all four paws on the floor. He arched his back and prepared for an attack. Then he saw who it was.

"Morning, Munk!" chirped Deuteronomy, obviously not fazed by the early morning acrobatic display.

"Good morning, Old Deuteronomy," he muttered, trying to hide his embarrassment.

"Today's the day I get to meet the tribe, right?" he said, practically bouncing on the spot. "I get to meet the Jellicles in the junkyard!"

"Re-meet," he corrected. "You've already met them before, you just don't remember."

"Oh, right. The whole rebirth thing. I'm hungry."

Munkustrap sighed. "Let's go upstairs, the humans must be up by now."

Sure enough, the female human was bustling around in the kitchen, trying to feed her kittens and get them ready for school. The male was wandering around muttering to himself while trying to tie a kind of fabric collar to his neck.

"Humans are odd," commented the kitten.

"You're telling me," said Munkustrap, rolling his eyes. "Come on, our food's out."

Halfway through their meal, there was a scratching on the window. Both cats looked up, although the humans didn't seem to notice. It was Rumpelteazer.

"Stay here," ordered Munk, before leaping onto the kitchen counter, then to the window still. He poked his head out under the mostly-closed window.

"Munkustrap, the meeting's all set for tonight," she said, sitting up straight like she was a soldier delivering a report. "Everyone will be there, even the kittens."

"Good," he nodded, forgetting where he was and hitting his head on the window. "Ow! We'll be busy until then; the female has that look in her eye she only gets when she's going shopping. By the way, you'll be happy to know that Old Deuteronomy has a common name now. The humans are calling him Alexander."

She shrugged. "It's better than mine. How would you like to be called Cinderella?"

"Your common name is Cinderella?" he asked, trying not to laugh.

"Yeah, and Mungojerrie's is Aladdin. We have a pair of six-year-old girls in our house who happen to love Disney movies," she scowled. "In any case, be at the junkyard just after the sun sets, and for the love of the Everlasting Cat, take care of that little fur ball."

"I took care of the entire tribe for a year and a half, Rumpelteazer. I think I can keep tabs on one kitten," he said, feeling slightly offended.

"Well, lose him and half the tribe's going to try to kill you," she said perkily, before jumping down into the bushes and trampling a good number of tulips.

"What did Teazer want?" asked Deuteronomy when he returned to the food dishes.

"She was just confirming the meeting tonight," he replied, finishing off his breakfast. "In the meantime, you've got a visit with the bathtub."

The kittens had gone to school, and the tom had gone to work. All that was left was the female, who was holding a bottle of the baby shampoo she used to wash Munkustrap.

Needless to say, it was a struggle. The silver tabby had already discovered that the kitten his idol had become wasn't prone to sit still for long, and he was even harder to keep a grip on when he was wet. Nevertheless, the human queen was dead set on giving him a bath, and in the end, she triumphed.

Munkustrap was a bit shocked by what he saw when his human had finally gotten Old Deuteronomy dunked in the semi-warm water. With his fur wetted down and flat, there wasn't much to the kit. He was mostly fur, and the rest of him was a bag of bones. White scar tissue which wasn't normally visible could be seen.

The human eventually got him washed and dried, and wasted no time whipping out the cat carrier for a trip to the veterinarian's office.

"Come on, you two," she coaxed. "I booked appointments for both of you."

Old Deuteronomy's eyes widened and he darted behind Munkustrap. The silver tabby picked him up effortlessly by the scruff of the neck, and calmly carried him into the portable cage.

Although he was a bit unsettled by the car trip, the kitten calmed once they got to the waiting room. It was mostly empty, as it was early in the morning. The only other animal was a parrot that didn't seem to want to shut up. Deuteronomy seemed to be both in awe of it and frightened by it.

"What is that thing?" he whispered.

"It's a parrot. It's a type of bird."

The multicoloured creature let out a string of babble no sane person would possibly understand.

"But it talks," Deuteronomy said quietly. "Birds don't talk."

"This one obviously does."

"Oh," he muttered, and then paused. "Can you eat them?"

"No."

"Oh."

When they got into the vet's office, the carrier door was opened. Munkustrap was forced, once again, to carry the kitten out by his neck. The tabby placed him in the table, holding his tail down with his paw so he couldn't bolt.

"Well, well," said the vet, a fairly pretty woman with dark auburn hair. "I see you've got a new kitten. Is Theodore the father?"

"I don't think so," said the female human. "They look a bit alike, but not much. I think he just stuck himself to Theo, and he's got the good heart to look after him."

"I'll have to take a look at him, then," she said, picking him up gently.

He wriggled for a bit, but was soon still as the she checked his heartbeat, examined his ears, and gave him a full check for parasites. He only flinched a bit when she gave him his tetanus shots, and set him back down.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" whispered Munkustrap.

Deuteronomy shook his head.

"Now that he's done, it's your turn, Theo."

The tabby gritted his teeth, but didn't bite. He convinced himself that it wouldn't be a good example for Deuteronomy if he had to be restrained.

After the vet's, the female left them in the car while she went into a pet store. During this time, Old Deuteronomy seemed to have an endless stream of questions.

"I'm going to get a collar, right?"

"Yes, you are."

"What are they for?"

"They've got your common name on them, and your human's phone number. It's in case you get picked up by the pound. They'll call your humans, and they'll come pick you up."

"Do they hurt?"

"No."

"Are they heavy?"

"Not really."

"What colour is it going to be?"

"I don't know," said Munkustrap, his patience wearing thin. "Why don't you take a nap or something?"

The kitten curled into a ball, but he couldn't sleep. Instead, he stared at Munkustrap while the cat paced back and forth across the carrier. Every time the tabby looked, he'd look the other way. It became a game for him, to not let Munkustrap catch him.

Finally, the human returned and drove them home. Once they were in the kitchen, she picked up Deuteronomy, and placed the collar around his neck.

"There!" she exclaimed. "Now you won't get lost!"

The kitten admired his reflection from the toaster as the female held him. The collar was small and black, and had a silver tag hanging from it. It felt funny having something tied around his neck, but it wasn't really uncomfortable.

It seemed to take forever for the sun to set. Munkustrap and Deuteronomy were at the junkyard before it did, however. Jennyanydots, the Rum Tum Tugger, Mungojerrie, and Rumpelteazer were all gathered there before the rest of the Jellicles.

"Do you remember what you have to say?" questioned the tabby.

The kitten nodded. "I, Old Deuteronomy, have returned from the mystical Heaviside Layer, and seek to claim my rightful place as the leader of the Jellicle tribe. If any Jellicle objects to my claim let them step forward now." He had been practising it all day, and had finally gotten it right.

"Good. And what do you do if someone steps forward? That probably won't happen, but it's best to be prepared."

"I draw myself up, and say 'Why do you deny that your rightful leader has returned to govern the Jellicle tribe in their life of peace?', then when they answer, I let you convince them that it's me."

"Perfect. Also, try not to act like a kitten. Try to be mature and wise," offered the Rum Tum Tugger. "No one's going to believe it's you if you're bouncing off the walls."

"And remember to hold yourself like a Jellicle leader," added Jennyanydots. "Shoulders back, head high, tail up, ears raised, and don't slouch."

"Don't say words like er or um," put in Munkustrap. "Sound sure of yourself, even when you're not. And try to say a cat's full name, but if you can't, shorten it."

Deuteronomy nodded, trying to remember all of their advice. "I think I'm ready." He paused. "Um, Munkustrap? How dark is it going to get once the sun's down?"

"No need to worry," Munkustrap assured him. "See all those spotlights over the junkyard? Those light up when the sun fully sets. They make this whole place look almost like it's day."

"How do they light up?" he questioned.

"Magic," the Rum Tum Tugger grinned. "Mistoffelees charged them up."

"Who's…"

"Everyone's here," Jennyanydots interrupted. "It's time to start."

Tugger and Mungojerrie looked at each other, and nodded. They walked out from behind the junk pile, which was conveniently behind the tire. They both stood on either side of it. All of the Jellicles had gathered around, and were muttering amongst themselves. When they saw the two toms, the crowd hushed.

Mungojerrie began to sing. "Old Deuteronomy's lived a long time

He's a cat who has lived many lives in succession

He was famous in proverb and famous in rhyme

A long while before Queen Victoria's accession."

The Rum Tum Tugger took his part. "Old Deuteronomy's buried nine wives

And more, I am tempted to say ninety-nine

And his numerous progeny prospers and thrives

And the village was proud of him in his decline."

Jennyanydots and Rumpelteazer appeared from behind the pile to join in. "Well of all things

Can it be really?

No, yes, ho hi oh my eye

My mind may be wandering but I confess

believe it is Old Deuteronomy."

The entire tribe sung the well-known song, despite all of them being confused. "Well of all things

Can it be really?

No, yes, ho hi oh my eye

My mind may be wandering but I confess

I believe it is Old Deuteronomy

Well of all thing

Can it be really?

No, yes, ho hi oh my eye…"

"That's our cue," whispered Munkustrap, stepping forward with Deuteronomy. "Although he is different, he's back from above

I assure you it's Old Deuteronomy."

A gasp ran through the crowd as the kitten, with the help of the silver tabby, climbed onto the tire. It looked exactly like him, only smaller. The mystical twins and Mistoffelees could sense that his aura was the same, kind and wise.

"Oh, Everlasting Cat!" whispered a scraggly white and brown kitten, who was known as Gus. "It's him! It's Old Deuteronomy, reborn as I was!"

"It is him!" agreed a Persian-like kit, about the same age. Grizabella. "There's no mistaking that cat as the leader himself!"

Deuteronomy took a deep breath, and drew himself up to his full height, which wasn't very much. "I, Old Deuteronomy, have returned from the mystical Heaviside Layer, and seek to claim my rightful place as the leader of the Jellicle tribe. If any Jellicle objects to my claim let them step forward now."

To everyone's surprise, a round tuxedo cat stepped forward through the crowd. "I object! You are not Old Deuteronomy, and I demand you stop shaming him with this masquerade!"

The kitten drew himself up even higher. "Who are you? And why do you deny that your rightful leader has returned to govern the Jellicle tribe in their life of peace?"

"I am Bustopher Jones," he said, glaring at the small cat. "If you were truly Old Deuteronomy, you would know that!"

"He's lost his memories," said Munkustrap, stepping in between them to protect the leader. "He knows nothing of his past lives, but he is Old Deuteronomy."

"He is not!" Bustopher shouted. "I have reason to believe that you set this entire thing up, you gutter tabby. You put this kitten up to pretending he's the leader, so you can influence him and run the tribe! When the real Old Deuteronomy comes back, you will deny him!"

Munkustrap opened his mouth to speak, but was stopped.

"Bustopher Jones," said Deuteronomy in a level but harsh voice. "You deny the abilities of the Jellicle leader. You question my decisions. You refuse my rebirth."

The larger tom shrunk back a bit. "No! I don't refuse you, I mean, him. I question Munkustrap!"

"You think that I would be so ignorant as to leave an unreliable cat to lead the Jellicles in my absence," he boomed. "Do you think I am an idiot, Bustopher Jones?"

"N-No!" he stammered. "O-Of course not!"

"I may not have my memories, Bustopher Jones, but I do have my common sense. Munk is loyal to me and to the Jellicles, and he was the one who snatched me from the jaws of a Pollicle at risk to his own life. You deny him, and in doing so you deny me!"

The tuxedo could feel the glares of all the Jellicles. "I do not deny you," he said finally, bowing low. "You have proven to me that you are the true Old Deuteronomy, and I ask that you forgive me for doubting you."

"You are forgiven," said Deuteronomy, with a small smile. "Oh, and Bustopher? Munk isn't a gutter tabby, he's a silver one!"

The large cat slunk away into the crowd, his pride badly bruised.

"Fellow Jellicles!" shouted Rumpelteazer, not able to hide a smile that the Cat About Town had been beaten by a kitten. "I give you my grandfather, Old Deuteronomy!"

A cheer rose up, and Munkustrap led the kitten into the mass of cats. He was greeted with hugs and nuzzles, and so many Jellicles tried to introduce themselves at once that he didn't catch many of their names. One cat caught his eye, however.

"You!" he exclaimed. "The black and white one!"

The slim tom slunk up. "Me, sir?"

"I had a dream about you," he said, staring in amazement. "I was in the dark, and you did something and brought me back into the light."

The cat smiled and bowed. "The Magical Mr. Mistoffelees, at your service, Old Deuteronomy. I recovered you from Macavity a few years ago. I suppose you don't remember, though."

The kitten shook his head, "No, I'm sorry. But thank you."

"Do you remember these two?" asked Jellylorum, making her way to the leader with Grizabella and Gus trotting behind her.

Deuteronomy looked at them, but finally shook his head. "No, I don't."

"We were reborn, just like you," said Gus. "We were good friends in our former lives. I was the theatre cat. You don't remember a thing?"

"No, I don't remember anything about the Jellicles. It's odd; you all seem to know everything about me, even things I don't know."

"I'm sure your memories will come back eventually," Grizabella offered optimistically.

Munkustrap looked up at the moon, which was high in the sky. "Everlasting Cat, it must be nearly midnight. We should be getting home. Come on, Old Deuteronomy."

The kitten slipped away from the cats, and hurried after him, jogging to keep up with the tabby's long strides. Bustopher Jones was standing by the junkyard exit, and the Jellicle leader stuck his tongue out at the fat tuxedo as they passed.


	8. The Blood

It had been nearly two weeks since Munkustrap had found Old Deuteronomy in the alley. The kitten had been enjoying life with the caring humans, at least compared to roaming the streets. The two boys adored him, and he, unlike Munkustrap, didn't mind being cuddled as long as they weren't too rough.

A stray queen had been discovered slinking around the junkyard, but when approached it was obvious she posed no threat. She had been made a Jellicle, and given the name Juana, as she had no name of her own. Mungojerrie, to his sister's amusement, had been trying to impress her since she became a Jellicle. So far, he was having little luck.

No memories had retuned to the leader, much to the tabby's dismay. He hadn't given up hope, though. He began to give Deuteronomy lessons, similar to what the old cat had given him in his youth. He instructed him in the ways of the Jellicle tribe, and taught him how to focus his mind.

The two were in a secluded area of the junkyard. Both were sitting up, their ears back and their tails flat on the ground.

"Close your eyes," said Munkustrap in a calm and soothing voice. "Close your eyes, your ears, and all of your other senses. There is no junkyard, there is no nothing. Only yourself and your mind. Focus on your mind, and explore its secrets. Find what it's holding back."

Although his eyes were closed, the tabby wasn't focusing on his own mind; he was focusing on his student. He usually got restless during these lessons. He could hear the kitten fidgeting for a moment, but then he was still and quiet. He remained that way for at least five minutes.

"Did you release any memories, Old Deuteronomy?" he asked, opening his eyes. "Old Deuteronomy?"

The kitten wasn't there.

Munkustrap cursed. No wonder he had been so quiet. He hadn't even hear him sneak off. He had to admit, the little bugger was good. He walked to the middle of the junkyard, and sure enough he was there, playing tag with Gus, Grizabella, and Chelonian.

"You're it, Chel!" he shouted, swatting her tail lightly.

"No fair, Deuteronomy!" she protested. "Tails don't count! Right, Gus?"

"They counted in our day," disagreed the former theatre cat. "Of course, everything was simpler back then. We just pounced on each other; we didn't care much for rules."

"And you always whined that us queens couldn't play because our claws were too sharp," complained Griz. "You made Heliotrope and I sit out while you convinced Deuteronomy to shrink off his duties. I remember he had his memories back then, and he ruled the tribe even though he was only a kitten."

"Speaking of ruling the tribe," interrupted Munkustrap. "Someone's supposed to be meditating so they can continue to do that. I'm not mentioning any names, Old Deuteronomy…"

The grey kitten's shoulders slumped. "Sorry, Munk. I was just having fun."

"Let the kit play for a bit," said Rumpelteazer, who was perched on an old car. "It won't do him any harm, Munkustrap. He's young, give him a break. Everyone needs a little fun in their life, right Granddad?"

Deuteronomy nodded. "Besides, I'm the Jellicle leader, so you have to do what I say. So I command you to let me play tag."

"Nice try, sir," said the tabby, rolling his eyes. "Although you are the leader, you're in an impaired state, and all power goes to the second-in-command, in this case me, until you are returned to your former state."

"Well, could I get some credit for effort?" he asked hopefully.

Munkustrap sighed. "Sure. Go play, lessons are over anyway."

"Thanks, Munk!" he said, before dashing off to join the other kittens.

"They're so cute when they're at that age," sighed Rumpelteazer. "It's days like these when you're sitting in the sun, watching your reborn grandfather jumping around in the junkyard… It just makes life worthwhile."

"You're extremely sarcastic, has anyone ever told you that?" the tabby asked, leaping up to sit beside her so he could keep an eye on Deuteronomy.

"Everyone I've ever met," she replied proudly. "You remember what it was like growing up, you were always the serious one, and Jerrie and I were always the clowns. Tugger was always followed by his fan club, and Old Deuteronomy would tell us stories late at night…"

"Yeah, I do remember…" said Munkustrap. "My favourite one was the story about the fox and the grape vines. The human cut out all the thorns so he could grow more grapes, but then the fox could get to the grapes to eat them."

"Have you ever thought that might be what Old Deuteronomy's doing? You know, putting thorns around his mind?" Rumpelteazer asked. "Maybe he blocked out his memories himself, ones that he didn't want, and he took away the rest so they wouldn't remind him of the bad ones. Maybe he wanted to start a whole new life."

"What bad memories could he have?" questioned the tabby. "What could be so horrible that he'd give up everything he's ever know, including his identity?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I do know, however, that something really bad happened in my grandfather's last life. I've asked my mother about it, but all she'll say is that it's all water under the bridge, and that there's no use dragging up ancient history."

"I wonder why he didn't tell me," he mused. "It must have been really awful."

"Maybe he killed someone or something," suggested the queen. "You know, in a battle. He couldn't get over it, and it tore him up."

"I don't think there were any battles under Old Deuteronomy's command. I'll ask Jennyanydots later if I think of it," He paused for a second, before saying "You know, we haven't seen Macavity in a while. I wonder why he hasn't attacked for two Jellicle moons."

Rumpelteazer shrugged. "I don't mean to sound like a doomsayer, but my guess is that he's planning something. Something big."

Down on the ground, Gus pounced on top of Deuteronomy, and they both rolled into the side of a car before collapsing into a grey, brown and white giggling heap.

_Deuteronomy looked around the den, and felt his stomach flip over. Blood. There was blood everywhere. It stained the walls, the floor, and the bodies. Her coat, her beautiful coat. It had been a lovely mix of reddish and orange colours. Now it was stained with deep, dark, red blood._

_He was nearly sick when he saw the second body. Ugly red seeped over the tapestry of grey. He was lying still, and his chest was not moving. But the blood was still pouring out of his open wound._

_And the little one. She was gone as well. Her coat was so much like her mothers, but her eyes were a deep brown, she had but opened them for the first time the day before. And now, there wasn't much left. Only red and the rare patch of clean orange._

_He felt his legs shake, but he didn't fall. He just stood there, watching the still scene. They were gone. They were all gone. And there he was, the murderer himself. Standing there, his claws stained red with their blood, his chest heaving up and down as he panted. And the smile he wore was that of a madman._

_The murderer's claws shot out, and caught him in the shoulder. They dragged down, tearing his flesh and spilling red onto his grey fur. He struck with his own claws, but then the other cat hit him hard in the face. He dropped, but turned to look up. The murderer was standing over him, smiling. And the blood. The blood was everywhere._

"Deuteronomy! Deuteronomy, wake up!"

There was a shaking on his shoulder. "No," he muttered. "No, not the blood. The blood."

"Deuteronomy, get up!"

His eyes shot open. Munkustrap was leaning over him, a concerned look on his face. "Where is he?" the kitten panted. "Where is he?"

"You were sobbing in your sleep," the tabbyfrowned. "You were having a nightmare, and a bad one by the sounds of it."

"It wasn't a nightmare, it was real. It was all real. I was there, and they were there, but they were dead. And him. He was there," he protested, his entire body shaking.

"No one was there," Munkustrap said, trying to soothe him. "It was just a dream. Dreams can't hurt you. It's all over now. Nothing can hurt you."

Old Deuteronomy huddled closer to the silver cat. He had been sleeping in his basket since he had come to the house, mainly because Munkustrap didn't have the heart to throw him out of it. "It was horrible. All I can remember was the blood. And him."

"Try to go back to sleep," said the tom calmly. "It was just a nightmare, nothing was real."

"You'll protect me, right, Munk?" he asked, looking up admiringly at the tabby. "You'll look after me and make sure nothing hurts me, won't you?"

"Yes, I will. Now go to sleep. Try to think happy thoughts, it'll help you forget the nightmare."

The kitten snuggled in close to Munkustrap. He felt safe near him, which was reasonable, as the tabby was the protector of the tribe. He had appointed him himself. At least that's what Munk had told him. But he figured that he had made the right choice.

Suddenly, he realized something. "Munk?"

"Hmm?"

"You called me Deuteronomy."

"That's your name, isn't it?"

"No, you called me just Deuteronomy, not Old Deuteronomy."

"Oh. Sorry, Old Deuteronomy."

"I like just Deuteronomy better."

"Fine. Good night, Just Deuteronomy."

The kitten giggled softly, closed his eyes, and drifted into a dreamless sleep.


	9. The Key

"Aw! Look how cute he is!"

"Hand me the brush, Carla! His fur is so long and silky! Not like my kitty's. Aladdin's so nasty; he wouldn't even let me brush him!"

"My kitty will! Cinderella will sit still, but she's got such short hair. Not like Alexander. He's so handsome!"

"This is going to scar him for life," said Munkustrap miserably as he watched the girls cuddle the grey kitten. "He'll kill me once he gets his memories back."

"He seems to be enjoying it," commented Rumpelteazer. "And look on the bright side; at least they're not putting him in frilly pink dresses. Or putting us in frilly pink dresses."

"The only reason they haven't is because all of their doll clothes were too big for him," he frowned. "Look at him, he's lapping it up."

Deuteronomy did seem to love the constant attention, much like any kitten. He allowed the group of seven-year-old girls to cuddle and brush him. It didn't hurt that they were slipping him pieces of cookie from their tea party.

Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer's owners were throwing a party, and almost the entire neighbourhood had been invited. The eldest child played football with Munkustrap's human's oldest son, so they had to go. Some cats in the neighbourhood swung by, meaning many of the Jellicles who belonged to middle-class families were wandering around the yard or the house.

"I don't see why your family lives in this small house," Munkustrap said, trying to keep his mind off of the fact that the Jellicle leader was being assaulted by human queen kits. "I mean, the place is loaded with jewels and paintings and vases. Why don't you guys live around Bustopher Jones and Victoria?"

"The tom human doesn't want the kittens to grow up spoiled, and the queen human likes vases and stuff. Conflicting personalities. They compromised. Small house, huge bank account. Humans don't often make a lot of sense."

Deuteronomy had finally been released by the humans, and bounded over to where the two cats were sitting. "Teazer, your human kittens talk a lot more than ours do. And ours don't brush me unless the queen hollers at them."

"There's a difference between tom kittens and queen kittens, Granddad," Rumpelteazer smiled. "You might not believe it, but you're going to mate with a queen Jellicle some day."

He wrinkled his nose. "Ew! Girls have fleas! I'm never having a wife!"

"It's a little late for that," said the Rum Tum Tugger, sauntering in. He was careful to avoid the girls, as they loved to brush his mane.

"What do you mean?" he asked, twitching his grey tail.

The Tugger rested his paw on the kitten's shoulder. "I hate to be the one to break this to you, Old Deuteronomy, but you've had more than one wife, you've had ninety-nine of them."

"I have?!" he shouted. He spun around to face the silver tabby. "Munk! Why didn't you tell me I'm married?! I don't have a wife right now, do I?"

Teazer covered her mouth in a fit of giggles, but Munkustrap just rolled his eyes. "Calm down, all of your mates are dead. Jennyanydots's mother was your last mate in your former life, and she passed on before I was even born. And I highly doubt you had ninety-nine wives, the Rum Tum Tugger likes to exaggerate."

Deuteronomy let out a relieved sigh. "Good. I don't want to be married. Well, not yet anyway. But… Do you know what my mate's name was? You know, Jenny's mother?"

"I think it was Helena, or something," offered Teazer. "It defiantly started with an H. Why do you ask, Granddad?"

The kitten shrugged. "I'd be a pretty bad husband if I didn't even know my wife's name. I guess I really had a life before I was reborn. Anything else I should know about?"

"You've had a huge impact on the tribe," the Rum Tum Tugger said. "Technically, you are the tribe. Most of the Jellicles are related to you, from one or another of your lives. You hold- held- the key to the Heaviside Layer. Munkustrap has it now, but he'll return it once you get your memories back. Or, at least, he should."

"I will, don't worry. As soon as your memories come back, you're welcome to it. You have no idea what it's like to posses the Heaviside Layer key on a full moon. Nausea, fever, vertigo, the general feeling of unpleasantness…"

"What makes you go like that?" asked Deuteronomy, curious.

"Well, the Heaviside Layer is directly connected to the Jellicle Moon. When the Moon rises, the keyhole to Heaviside is accessible. And when that keyhole appears, the one with the key knows it. But even though the key to the Heaviside Layer is only used once a year, the full moon also calls to its powers, making its keeper miserable."

"Cool!" he exclaimed. "And I'm going to be in charge of all that?"

"Hopefully, yes," nodded Munkustrap. "Rumpelteazer, could you watch him for a minute? I've got to go talk with Jennyanydots. And no, you may not give him stealing lessons."

"Aw, you're no fun," she complained. "Come on, Granddad, I'll show you how to make humans drop their food so you can grab it."

The silver tabby chose not to hear that as he hurried down the stairs, first to the ground floor then to the basement. Once he was down there he looked around, but he saw no Gumbie Cat. He did see something else, however. A nice, plump mouse with its back turned.

Munkustrap grinned evilly, and slunk silently up behind his prey. He raised his paw, and aimed to strike. He was milliseconds away from mouse steak when an orange something shot out and pinned his paw to the floor.

The tabby yowled, making the mouse look up. He looked up to see what the orange something was. It was Jennyanydots, and she didn't look overly happy.

"Munkustrap! You lay so much as one claw on that poor little mouse, and I'll skin you bare!" Her mood changed as she smiled at the mouse. "Run along, dear. I've got to have a word with Munkustrap here."

The rodent stuck its tongue out at the tom before scampering off into its hole.

Munk tugged his paw loose of the Gumbie Cat's death grip. "Ow, Jenny. Was that really necessary? And where'd you learn to strike like that?"

"My father, where else?" she asked airily. "Now, is there a reason you came down here other than to kill and eat my students?"

"I didn't know he was your student," said the tabby, slightly miffed. "You could get collars for them or something."

"For one thing, Annabelle is a she. And secondly, do you see human students with collars? Although from what I've heard from my tom human, maybe it would be best if they did…"

"You name the mice? Actually, never mind. The thing is… Deuteronomy's starting to ask questions, and I'm not really sure how to answer them."

"Ah, of course, of course," Jennyanydots nodded sympathetically. "The age old question that every caregiver dreads. Where do kittens come from, right?"

"No, he's hasn't asked that. Yet. He's become curious about his other lives. He was asking who named him, how the key to the Heaviside Layer works, the name of his last mate…" He trailed off, praying to the Everlasting Cat that the topic of the Gumbie Cat's mother wasn't a sore one.

"But that's good, isn't it? Maybe his memories are starting to come back. And Mother's name was Heliotrope. It's a plant, I believe. Yes, I remember that Father named her that because she turned up at the junkyard with a spring of heliotrope stuck in her fur. Don't ask me how that happened, that flower's supposed to grow in marshes. But I suppose…"

"Deuteronomy named his own mate?" interrupted Munkustrap.

"Well, of course. Who else would? She was a kitten when she became a Jellicle, and he went to the Heaviside Layer that year. But while he was gone, Mother got chosen to go to the Heaviside by the second-in-command. Father was reborn two weeks before she was, and they mated when they got older."

"I had no idea how complicated Old Deuteronomy's lives must have been," mused the tabby. "You could name a kitten when you were an elder, and then be their mate when they're your age."

"It is all a bit confusing, isn't it?" admitted Jennyanydots.

"Well, who named Old Deuteronomy?" he asked.

"Oh, he never told you? I suppose he thought he'd have more time, poor thing. His father named him, of course. There were a few Jellicle leaders before my father. They too were continually reborn through the Heaviside Layer, but some died from accidents or illnesses. Then, their second-in-command took over. Deuteronomy's father was the leader in his first life. Old Nathaniel, I think. He died from a Pollicle attack, and Father became the Jellicle leader."

"Hmm, guess there's a lot of things Deuteronomy never taught me. Thing is, now none of us know. What other secrets could have been lost forever?"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic. I'm sure he'll be himself again by the next Jellicle moon," she said optimistically, her orange tail swaying back and forth. "In the meantime, go easy on him. He's only a kitten, Munkustrap, don't train him to death."

"Deuteronomy's not a kitten," pointed out Munkustrap. "He's your father."

She shrugged. "He's small and he's fluffy. He's a kitten to me."


	10. The Magic

_AN: Okay, I just hauled my cheap self to Music World and bought a copy of The Nightmare Before Christmas on DVD. Ken Page rocks as the Oggie Boogie man, does he not? In any case, here's the chapter. Thanks to all of my reviewers so far._

"Deu-ter-on-o-my!"

The grey kit looked up from the car bonnet he had been sunbathing on. "Uh oh."

"You little spawn of Satan! Deuteronomy, come here! I'll get you for this, you mini shag rug!"

He nimbly jumped off of the rusted car, and started running as fast as his legs could carry him. He was running because the Rum Tum Tugger was chasing him, and gaining fast. The Curious Cat obviously hadn't taken too kindly to the Jellicle leader dunking his tail in green paint while he was sleeping. And since Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer were both with Munkustrap, there was only one suspect.

"He's trying to kill me!" the kit shouted desperately. "Jenny! Help!"

The Gumbie Cat looked up from her knitting for a second. Seeing the predicament, she sighed and shook her head before returning to her work. She truly loved her father, but she had to admit that he needed to be taught a lesson.

Mistoffelees glanced out from on top of a junk pile where he had been meditating over his third name. He sighed softly. Deuteronomy was in trouble. Again. The little ball of fluff probably deserved whatever the Rum Tum Tugger was planning to do to him. Still, he felt a bit sorry for the kit, so he quickly headed down to help him out.

"I've got you now, you little demon!" grinned the Tugger, who was right on Deuteronomy's heels. The kitten tripped, and he saw his opportunity. He sprung into the air, aiming to pounce on the grey pile of fur. Right before he hit, the kit vanished, and the Rum Tum Tugger fell hard into the dirt. Face first. The large tom looked up to see Deuteronomy several meters away, and a smirking tuxedoed cat perched on a rusted steel drum.

"What did you do that for?" he demanded angrily. "I almost had him!"

"It's the duty of a magician to protect the leader of his tribe," Mistoffelees smiled innocently. "Besides, he's only a kitten, you big bully. Green's a good colour for you, by the way."

The Tugger growled, and shot off after Deuteronomy again. The little kit could move fast for his young age, something that amazed the tom given the condition he had been in a few years ago. The grey streak slipped into a hole under a low car. The Rum Tum Tugger didn't stop in time, and slid into the side door, his face hitting the solid metal with a rather unique noise that sounded a bit like a gong.

Mistoffelees stooped his head to hide a smile as the large tom climbed dizzily to his feet.

"That's it!" he declared. "This time, he's kitten stew! When I get my paws on him…"

"If you get your paws on him," corrected Mistoffelees. "If you haven't noticed, there's no possible way anyone other than Deuteronomy can fit in that hole. I don't think even Gus could slip in there."

"He's gone from being the largest cat to the smallest cat," growled the Rum Tum Tugger. "Well, the largest except for Bustopher Jones, anyway."

"Actually, Old Deuteronomy wasn't really fat, he was just broad-shouldered, and he had a lot of fur."

"And that helps me because…"

"It doesn't, really. But I will say this, if you don't have that kitten out by the time Munkustrap gets back from his meeting with that other tribe, you're in trouble. You were supposed to be looking after him, not trying to murder him."

"I'll get him out, don't worry about that. Worry about what's going to happen when I do get him out," the larger cat sniffed. He crouched down by the hole, and stuck his paw in. He fished around for a bit, looking for the kit. Eventually, he let out a yelp, jumped up, and banged his head on the car with another unique noise almost, but not quite, like the first one. He withdrew his paw, cursing.

"You shouldn't swear in front of the kitten, Tug," smirked the Conjuring Cat. "If he picks up any bad language, heads will roll."

"He's not a kitten, he's a demon! Do you have any idea how sharp his teeth are? They're like tiny needles! He should be named Mistoffelees, not you."

"I think you're being a little harsh, Rum Tum Tugger. He's only a kitten, he acts like kittens do. He may be a bit high-strung, but he's certainly no demon. In fact, he's a healer, although his powers haven't shown in this life," yawned Misto. "Besides, I've gotten him back once, I can do it again."

In a puff of smoke, a confused looking Old Deuteronomy was sitting in front of the Tugger's paws. Not wanting to lose him again, the tom quickly put his paw down, trapping the grey hairball under it.

"Come on, Tugger!" he complained. "I can't breath!"

"You're lucky you still have the option to breath, Mr. Smarty-Pants. You may be the Jellicle leader, but you're still smaller than me," he smirked, paying no mind to the kit's protests.

The black tom craned his head, and chuckled. "Red hot queen at twelve o'clock, Tugger."

"Bomba? Oh crud, got to hide the brat," With a sudden brain storm, he quickly shifted the kitten and plopped himself on top of him.

Bombalurina slunk up to the large tom, grinning like a seductress. She and the Rum Tum Tugger had been seriously flirting around for months. And the tom found it hard to be sexy when he had a ball of lint "cramping his style".

"Hey, beautiful," he said causally, ignoring the muffled shouts from under him.

"Hi, Tugger. Doing anything?"

"He's kitten-sitting," said Mistoffelees, giving a mysterious smile.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked suspiciously. "And what's Griz doing?"

"Griz? What's she… OW!"

The former glamour cat had snuck up behind the Rum Tum Tugger and sunk her extremely sharp claws into his tail in an attempt to get him off Deuteronomy. Needless to say, it worked. The kits ran, laughing their fur off.

"I never did like that queen," growled the tom, nursing both his tail and his pride.

"I think she's adorable," grinned Bombalurina. "Still, it would be nice to have some normal kittens around here. Ones that aren't older than we are."

"Is that an offer?" asked the Tugger, wriggling his eyebrows.

The tuxedo tom groaned. "Would you two do that somewhere else? I just ate, and I think I'm going to be sick. By the way, Tugger, you might want to arm yourself. Munkustrap's coming, and you don't know where the Almighty Ball of Fluff is off to."

The silver tabby fumed up to them. "Everlasting Cat, I hate that Yalta tribe. Everything's blood with them! Acting Leader isn't good enough for them; they want to see Old Deuteronomy's blood! So I bring Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer, and they completely humiliate me! And Jenny's refused to meet with any of them… Not to mention I can't talk to the leader with his advisor of some sort hovering over him and whispering gossip in his ear!"

"Yeah, those Yaltas are some group," muttered the Rum Tum Tugger. "Er, Munkustrap? Hypothetically, what would you do if you found out I lost Old Deuteronomy?"

"I'd rip off your tail and feed it to the Pollicles, and then I'd shave off your mane and shove it down your throat," he replied with an unsettling calmness. "Why?"

"Ah, you see, the thing is…" started the tom, but he was thankfully saved.

Skimbleshanks trotted up to them, the wriggling Jellicle leader in his mouth. He set the kit down, and the small tom tumbled forward before falling face first in the dirt.

"Lose something?" the Scottish cat asked, smirking. "I found him trying to assassinate Jellylorum, with Chelonian and Grizabella as his partners in crime. Don't ask where Gus is, because I don't want to know."

"I was not trying to whatever-that-was Jelly! We were just playing, and you nearly made me jump out of my fur when you grabbed me!" Deuteronomy protested. "It's not very nice to treat your father-in-law like this, Skimble."

Munkustrap couldn't help but chuckle. "I thought I told you to behave, Deuteronomy. If you keep disobeying the Rum Tum Tugger like this, I'll have to start leaving you with Asparagus, and he has no qualms about locking you in a dryer for a few hours."

"But I don't like Tugger!" he complained. "He's too busy trying to impress queens to be any fun. Why couldn't I go with you?"

"Because I was at a very important meeting, and the Yalta territory is no place for a kitten. Tugger, I need to see you. Jenny, Teazer, and Jerrie, too. Come on. Mistoffelees, please watch Deuteronomy."

"Will do, Munkustrap!" he saluted as they walked off.

The grey kitten eyed him warily. "What are you going to do to me?"

"Nothing," the tuxedo said calmly, as he used his paw to draw a circle in the dirt around Deuteronomy. "Now, I'm going to go talk with Victoria, and you're going to stay inside this circle so you don't get into any trouble."

"I am not going to stay in here!" he said, and gave a jump towards outside the line. He stopped in midair, and fell backwards as if he had hit an invisible barrier.

Mistoffelees laughed. "You need to learn, Old Deuteronomy, that when a magical cat says something, he means it."

The kitten scowled, and cautiously came closer to the line. He placed a paw on where the wall would have been, and green sparks began to jump from his paw. A dome formed over the circle, and it appeared to shatter, the pieces falling to the ground only to disappear. Deuteronomy lowered his paw, stepped out of the circle, and gave a smirk.

The conjuring cat's eyes widened for a moment, before he calmed and gave a sigh. "Well, this was bound to happen sooner or later."

"What?" he asked, dropping down onto his haunches before the tom. "What did I just do?"

"You just removed my spell. You used to have the ability to unravel charms and heal wounds before you went to the Heaviside Layer, but we thought you lost them along with your memories. Do you feel any different?"

"Not really, no," he said, frowning a bit. "I can't remember anything I'm not supposed to, either."

Mistoffelees bit his lip. "This isn't good. A kitten your age and size shouldn't be able to contain powers, yet if they've been inside you all this time, it must have something to do with your mind. I honestly don't know what to make of this."

Meanwhile at the tire throne, a meeting for great importance was going on.

"They say they need to see Old Deuteronomy for them to trust us," fumed Munkustrap. "They are so pig-headed, it's a wonder that they're cats at all!"

"But we need their help, however much I hate to admit it," Jennyanydots reminded him. "If Macavity or the Pollicles attack again, we'll need support, and the Yaltas can give us that."

"Just bring Deuteronomy along next time you go," suggested Rumpelteazer. "If they want to see him, let them see him."

"In the condition he's in? We'll be laughed out of the territory! We'll become known all over London as the tribe that's led by a kitten!" the Rum Tum Tugger snorted.

"Just explain to them what happened," sighed Mungojerrie. "Maybe they'll be impressed. I mean, how many tribes have a leader who's practically immortal?"

"Yes, but…" For once, the silver tabby seemed to be at a loss for words. "I just don't know what to do. If we bring Old Deuteronomy into Yalta territory, he's open to kidnapping. Or worse. Do you know what the Yaltas do before they banish people? They cut off their tails, and tie them around their necks."

"That's an old queen's tale, Munkustrap," scoffed Jenny. "Have you ever seen a tailless cat wandering around with a bleeding collar of flesh around its neck?"

"Well, no. But that's not the point! If the Yaltas take Deuteronomy hostage, we'll be at their mercy. We'd have to give into their demands."

"No we wouldn't," pointed out Rumpelteazer. "I mean, we probably would, but Granddad doesn't have the key to the Heaviside Layer, you do. If it was a demand too outrageous, like mass suicide or something, you'd just become permanent leader."

Everyone glared at the queen, and she shrunk into the background. No one wanted to think that something like that would ever happen. They would do anything needed to save Deuteronomy, and they knew it.

"I guess we have no choice," he sighed. "In three days, we'll visit the Yalta tribe, and we'll bring Old Deuteronomy with us. Jennyanydots, I don't suppose I could convince you to come this time?"

She shook her head. "With all due respect, Munkustrap, I'd rather not."

"Fine. Tugger, Rumpelteazer, Mungojerrie, you'd better go save Mistoffelees from Deuteronomy. Or the opposite, it depends on how much Misto's been practising him aim lately."

The twins took off, and Tugger went to follow them.

"Rum Tum Tugger?" the silver tabby questioned. "Since when as your tail been green?"

The Maine Coon gave a growl, and stalked off after the calico-coloured cats.

Munk turned to the Gumbie Cat. "Jenny, I'm curious, why are you so afraid of the Yaltas? I mean, none of us are very fond of them, but you seem outright terrified of them."

She shook her head sadly. "I'd prefer not to say. But I will not put one paw in Yalta territory."

Munkustrap sighed as the orange queen headed off after her offspring. Not much bothered Jenny; she'd tend to the sickest cats and bandage the goriest wounds. What would have had such an impact on her?

He stopped, backtracking. He had thought the same thing when the Rum Tum Tugger had told him that Deuteronomy had once planned to take his own life. Was what happened to Jenny and what happened to the Jellicle leader the same thing? After all, they were father and daughter.

Oh well, he finally thought, trotting towards where he had left the kitten leader. It was none of his business anyway. His business was making sure Old Deuteronomy stayed alive.


	11. The Leaders

"Remember, Deuteronomy, you have to behave!"

The kitten sighed and rolled his eyes. "Yes, Munk."

Munkustrap, Deuteronomy, Mungojerrie, Rumpelteazer, Mistoffelees, and the Rum Tum Tugger were making their way towards the Yalta territories, which were on the outskirts of town. The silver tabby had decided to bring Mistoffelees for his magic powers and the Tugger because he was strong enough to fight. He decided it was better to be safe than sorry.

Old Deuteronomy had been practising his magic with Misto lately, and the tuxedo had discovered that he could make any spell, charm, or curse collapse without effort, but neither cat knew how he was doing it. He had tried his healing powers on a few of his minor cuts and bruises, but wasn't all that good at healing yet.

Currently, the Jellicle leader was trotting to keep up with the larger cats and trying to practise being regal. He tried to hold his tail over his back like Bustopher Jones did, but it just didn't seem to want to stay that way. And the trotting wasn't very dignified, either. He hoped that Munk and the others would slow down once they got to the centre of the Yalta tribe.

Without stopping, Rumpelteazer licked her paw and ran it over Deuteronomy's head in an attempt to make his fur lie flat. It was a losing battle, and she knew it. She had watched as her mother had held the kit down that morning while she groomed him, but his coat was becoming unmanageable. It was getting thicker as well.

"There's no use trying to fix his fur, Teazer," advised Mungojerrie. "It's got a bloody mind of its own. Still, it's better off than that mess of a coat he used to have. He's got a lot more dark grey colours now than he did back then."

"Hey!" he protested. "I did not have a mess of a coat!"

"How do you know? You can't remember seeing it," sighed Munkustrap.

"Oh, yeah," he said slowly. "Well… Your coat's no better! You look like a queen!"

"Better a queen than a dust mop, kiddo," grinned Jerrie. "I swear, you'll lay down for a nap one of these days, and when you wake up, a human will be cleaning the coffee table with you."

"I do not look like a dust mop!"

"Do to."

"Do not."

"Do to."

"Do not!"

Munkustrap sighed. "Do you think whatever causes that is genetic?"

"Possibly," admitted the Rum Tum Tugger. "Everlasting Cat, and everyone thought you were his grandson. I guess you don't know someone until they're reborn and you stick them with their grandkit."

"Jeez, even I'm not that immature," snorted Rumpelteazer. "Jerrie! Quit teasing Granddad! And Granddad, don't you dare bite his tail!"

"You're no fun," they both muttered at the same time before Munkustrap separated them. They glared at each other from either side of the tabby, each mumbling under their breath.

"Yep, either it's genetic, or it's something in the water," said the Rum Tum Tugger matter-of-factly. "My first guess would be catnip."

"Deuteronomy, if you're not going to behave, we'll go straight back to the junkyard, and you'll have your lessons with Jennyanydots," warned Munkustrap.

It was an empty threat, but the kitten did shut up.

The group was silent for a moment, before Mistoffelees leaned over to the silver tabby and said "Do you think the Yaltas are A-N-T-I M-A-G-I-C?" He spelled it out so Deuteronomy wouldn't understand.

"No idea," he admitted. "If they are, act normal. If you get in trouble, M-A-G-I-C back to the J-U-N-K-Y-A-R-D."

"Ya know," said the grey kitten causally. "Jenny's been teaching me how to S-P-E-L-L."

"Oh," said Munkustrap, his ears wilting. There went their main technique to keeping secrets.

"What's anti-magic?" asked Deuteronomy. "Are they a tribe?"

The tuxedo tom shook his head. "Not quite. If a tribe is anti-magic, then they think that all magic is unnatural, and all magical cats are devils. Any kit born with powers is banished from the tribe."

"But that's awful!" he protested. "Magical cats aren't bad!"

"Some are, Old Deuteronomy," the Rum Tum Tugger explained gently. "Remember what I told you about Macavity?"

"Yeah, but you also told me about tons of non-magical cats who are bad," he countered. "What about Bustopher Jones? He hasn't got magic, and he's mean!"

While the St. James Street Cat had said that he believed that Old Deuteronomy had been reborn, it was common knowledge that he didn't truly believe it. He avoided the kitten like the plague, and whenever he was forced to go around him, the fat tom either gave him the cold shoulder, or said things that nearly made the poor kit cry.

"Yeah? Well Bustopher Jones is a jerk," snorted Rumpelteazer. "Next time he comes to the junkyard, we'll tie his tail to the bumper of a car. How about it?"

"Don't you dare," warned Munkustrap. "All we need is rumours going around London that the Jellicle tribe has a savage kitten for a leader. Bustopher Jones has contacts, and most of them are cats I never want to meet."

"Hey, Deuteronomy," grinned the Rum Tum Tugger, trying to change the subject. "Bet you I can beat you to that iron fence."

"You might beat the dust mop, but you can't beat me," snorted Mungojerrie.

"Want to bet?" smiled the kitten. "Try me!"

Mistoffelees gave a questioning look to Munkustrap, who sighed and nodded. He crouched into a starting position.

"On your mark! Get set! Go!"

The four took off, bounding down the sidewalk.

Rumpelteazer grinned. "Misto may be a magical cat, but he's still not much older than a kitten."

Munkustrap rolled his eyes. "I suppose I should be grateful for the Tugger's antics, but I just can't bring myself to it."

"Still, it's best to keep the subject of Bustopher Jones away from Deuteronomy," she admitted. "Do you know what happened yesterday while I was watching him? Granddad was playing quietly for once, batting around that stuffed mouse your humans got him. Bustopher entered the junkyard, brushed off Jennyanydots and Jellylorum, and came up to him. He sneered at him, and, right in front of me, called him a demonic bastard impostor."

"He called him that?" the tabby practically hollered. "That… I won't say what I think of him. Oh, Everlasting Cat, what I wouldn't do to take just one good shot at him."

"It's a serious problem," she sighed, serious for a rare moment. "What if Bustopher tries to have him, you know, 'taken care of', if you catch my drift? It's like you said, Munkustrap, he's got contacts. And I'll bet not all of them are lawful."

Munkustrap rolled his eyes. "I think you've been watching too many human mob movies, Teazer. I seriously doubt that Bustopher Jones is going to have Old Deuteronomy whacked off."

"I don't trust that Saint James Street cat any farther than I could throw him," she said stubbornly. "And he weighs thirty pounds, so I probably couldn't even lift him. And how do you know what that fat snob would or wouldn't do? For all we know about him, he could be a Mafia Don!"

"He is a Jellicle, Rumpelteazer. He may not be the most agreeable cat, but he hasn't physically threatened Deuteronomy, or any other members of the tribe. Bustopher Jones is innocent until proven guilty," Munkustrap said calmly.

"I know! But he just makes me want to smack him!" she protested. "I swear, if he lays so much as one claw on Granddad, he's not going to live to eat another shrimp."

"Don't worry, if he hurts anyone, he will be dealt with," Munkustrap assured her. "But can you honestly see Bustopher Jones in a battle?"

"Granddad's a kitten, Munk, and a small one at that. It wouldn't be much of a battle. All it would take is a single claw across the throat while he's asleep, and no more Jellicle leader."

"Do you have to be so disgusting?" shuddered the tabby.

"Sorry, but it's the truth! It wouldn't take a great effort to kill my grandfather while he's in this state."

Munkustrap sighed. "You have a point. He's small, he's naïve, and he's trusting. Well, he always was trusting, but Macavity could walk right up to him now and he wouldn't know the difference!"

"I thought we were talking about Bustopher Jones."

"No, we're talking about Old Deuteronomy's safety in general."

"Munk! Teazer!" hollered the grey kitten. "Come on! Tugger says we're almost there!"

The two quickened their pace, and caught up with the others.

"Okay, Old Deuteronomy walks in front, I walk slightly behind him. Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer are behind me, and the Rum Tum Tugger and Mistoffelees are behind them," Munkustrap commanded. "And mind your manners, Deuteronomy. The Yaltas outnumber us, and we don't want a war on our paws. Let me do most of the talking."

"I know, I know," the kit sighed. "And don't do anything that has the slightest chance of offending them."

"Glad we're on the same level. There's Haskin, he's the leader of the Yalta tribe. Remember to bow to him and anyone else I bow to," Munkustrap reminded him as the approached the Yalta junkyard.

The muscular dirt brown tom who was waiting to greet them stepped forward and bowed. "Munkustrap, it's a pleasure to see you again. And this, I presume, is Old Deuteronomy, the Jellicle leader."

"You presume correctly, Haskin," the silver tabby said politely, also bowing and making sure the grey kitten was as well. "I believe I explained our dear leader's unique condition to you before."

"Ah, yes. The lack of memories," the brown cat smiled, rising. "Quite unfortunate. But no matter, some things can't be helped, I suppose. Does he have any recollection at all of his former life?"

"Lives," Munkustrap corrected. "This is not the first time he had been reborn, but I think this is the first time he's come back like this. He can recall some moments of extreme pain or fear, but nothing else."

"Well, I'm sure it'll all come right eventually," Haskin beamed. "If you'd care to follow me, I'll show you the throne room."

He led them into a tunnel made in the pile of junk. It had obviously taken a lot of cats to make, but the Yalta tribe had a much larger population than the Jellicles.

"You're pretty young to be the leader of a tribe," Deuteronomy mentioned as they walked through the semi-darkness of the tunnel. He was careful to keep close to Munkustrap.

"I inherited the throne six months ago after my father died in an accident," the brown cat said casually, as if he was discussing the weather. "But I assure you, I am well-trained, and I have elders behind me to help me rule wisely."

"Are there any magical cats in the Yalta tribe?" Mistoffelees asked nervously.

"Not at the moment, no. But I believe there is a kitten the elders think will develop powers as he gets older. We're overjoyed, of course. Magicians are rare in our tribe."

"We think we have higher levels of magic in the Jellicle tribe because of our interaction with the Heaviside Layer," Munkustrap said. "There are three, excuse me, four magical cats in our tribe. A set of psychic twins, Mistoffelees here, our conjuring cat, and Old Deuteronomy, who's regaining his healing powers."

"Ah, yes. I've heard of your magic, Old Deuteronomy. I've even heard a rumour that you lost your last life trying to heal a human. Then again, with all the stories floating around, who can tell what's true, hmm?"

"What's he talking about?" the grey kitten whispered.

"I'll tell you later," Munkustrap replied softly. He prayed that he would forget about it before he had a chance to tell him.

"I recognize Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer from our last meeting," Haskin continued. "And you've already introduced the tuxedo as Mistoffelees, but who is your last companion?"

"The Rum Tum Tugger," the black and leopard tom replied, ruffling his mane. "I came along as a sort of protection for Old Deuteronomy. The last thing we'd want is for something to happen to him."

"Ah, yes, I suppose he would be a bit of a target in his current state. Have there been any… incidents yet?"

"Not yet, thank the Everlasting Cat," Munkustrap said. "But I'm sure you heard about the Jellicle Ball two and a half years ago."

Haskin chuckled. "All of London heard about that. I must say that I am very impressed with the way you handled it. I guess you Jellicles have a huge advance with all of your magical cats."

"So that's what he wants from us," Mistoffelees whispered to the Rum Tum Tugger. "They have numbers, and we have magic."

"Here it is, the throne room!" the brown tom announced.

It was a large room with a large easy chair at the front of it, obviously the Yalta throne. There were carvings on the walls made by claw marks in the metal, depicting various battles. Small slits in the roof let in sunlight.

"We cover those sun holes in the winter and when in rains," the Yalta leader mentioned. "We'll have to close them soon; it's been getting cold out."

"Nice place," commented the Rum Tum Tugger. "I guess not many of you guys are house cats."

Haskin shook his head. "Very few are. Most of us live in these tunnels the generations before us built. You six are all house cats?"

"Yeah, but it doesn't mean we're sissies," the Tugger said defensively, before Munkustrap stepped on his tail in warning.

A red-orange tabby tom with a slight build poked his head into the room. He seemed to be a bit younger than Mistoffelees. "Master Haskin, you suggested I meet you here before?"

"Ah, yes. I have some matters to discuss with Munkustrap, so I was wondering if you could give Old Deuteronomy, his grandkits and his guards a small tour of our tunnels. Would that please you, Old Deuteronomy?"

The grey kitten looked at Munkustrap for conformation, and finally replied. "Yes, I would like that. Thank you for offering." The silver tabby and Jennyanydots had spent all of the day before drilling manners into him.

He bowed low before Deuteronomy. "My name is Jabirus; my father is on the council of elders that aids Master Haskin. It would be a pleasure to show you around." He walked towards the door and gestured for them to follow.

The Jellicle leader, the twins, the Tugger and Mistoffelees trailed behind them as he led them around the complex tunnels. He showed them the sleeping quarters and the sick bay, which was currently empty. Jabirus explained how everything was built, along with a brief history of the Yalta tribe, which was short in comparison to the Jellicles' history.

Deuteronomy feel behind as the others followed Jabirus, even though Mistoffelees was the only one actually interested in what the young tom was saying. The kit spied a smaller hallway, and light was coming from the end of it. He glanced back towards his fellow Jellicles. Munkustrap wouldn't like it if he ran off.

But he'd never know. It's just for a second, and then I can catch up with them, he reasoned. I'll just go up for a peek…


	12. The Past

"Your leader seems very friendly," Haskin said, smiling slightly. He and Munkustrap were now alone in the throne room.

"He always was, even before he went to the Heaviside Layer," the tabby replied. "He's like a grandfather to everyone. Or at least he was. Now it seems like he's everyone's kitten or brother."

"How did you say Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer were related to Old Deuteronomy?"

"Their mother is his only kit. Her name is Jennyanydots; she couldn't come because of some personal business she had to take care of." Little white lie, he thought to himself sheepishly.

"Why is it, Munkustrap, that after all these years of the Yaltas and the Jellicles having next to no contact, you decide to make us allies now?" Haskin asked, jumping up onto his throne.

"Old Deuteronomy made plans to befriend you himself before he went to the Heaviside Layer, but it was right before he began to get weaker, and he didn't have time," Munkustrap said, dropping to his haunches before the leader.

"Ah, of course, of course. I believe you told me that once already. Cancer, wasn't it? An awful thing. But you said your leader is a healer," the brown tom said, raising an eyebrow.

"He was in a late stage of his disease before it came to his attention," he said, nearly grimacing as another lie came forth. "There was nothing he could do but send himself to the Heaviside Layer. I thought that in the condition he is in now, he would appreciate it if I could do what he meant to do."

"Old Deuteronomy always loved peace, didn't he?" Haskin said, smiling a bit. "My grandfather met him once; he said he was one of the kindest toms he had ever met. He was a kitten then, too. He had just returned from the Heaviside Layer weeks before. He had his memories that time, however."

"Yes, he really is a rarity," Munkustrap admitted. "He found me on the street, half drowned and nearly frozen. He took me back to his house, he lived with an old lady then who let me stay. He got me back on my paws, and finally decided to train me as his successor."

"I suppose blood doesn't determine who inherits the throne among Jellicles, does it?"

"No, skill does."

"Let us get directly to the point, Munkustrap," the brown cat said hurriedly, avoiding the tabby's stare. "Both Macavity and the Pollicles are threats to both of our tribes. You do not have the numbers to defend yourselves, and we do not have the magic. If there was ever a war, we would both be finished. But if we swear an allegiance, we could overthrow them when, if, the attack comes."

"I agree," nodded the silver tabby. "I want to make it clear that we will not simply attack the Pollicles or Macavity. We will defend ourselves, but we will not attack him first."

"That is clear," smiled Haskin. "Care to discuss the details up in the lookout? There's a wonderful view from up there, and we will have privacy."

"Of course."

Old Deuteronomy trotted up the hall, and poked his head through the hole leading outside. It was a corner of the Yalta junkyard, where the fence met. A hole was in a section of the wire, and two poorly-kept tom cats were slinking through it.

The larger of the two, a bulky light grey tom, looked towards him. "Hey, Flea! It's a little kitty cat!"

The cat who must have been Flea laughed. He was small and his entire coat was black. "What are you doing so far from your momma, little Yalta? Shouldn't you be safe within your tunnel walls? Hey, Rat, let's show him."

The large grey cat grinned, baring his sharp teeth. "We'll show you what happened when Yalta kitties get in our way."

"I'm not a Yalta," Deuteronomy growled. "I'm a Jellicle!"

"A Jellicle!" exclaimed Rat. "Well that changed everything! When we thought you were a Yalta, we were just going to rough you up a bit. Now that we know you're a Jellicle, we're going to kill you."

"Why have the Jellicles and the Yaltas never been allies before?" Munkustrap questioned, looking around from the high lookout point.

"Lack of need, really," Haskin shrugged. "And to tell the truth, I think my father was always afraid Old Deuteronomy would blame the Yaltas for what happened with Macavity."

"Why in Heaviside would we blame the Yaltas?" asked the tabby, frowning.

"Oh, I thought you knew," the brown tom said, looking uncomfortable. "Macavity was a Yalta."

"What?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"His father was banished from the tribe for attempted murder. He was ordered to leave Macavity and his other kitten behind, but he stole them away. The younger one died, he wasn't weaned and he starved without milk, but Macavity was then raised on the streets and taught the life of crime. The rest, as they say, is history."

"I never knew that," Munkustrap mused, regaining his composure. "And here I was thinking he was a Jellicle."

"I guess first reaction when someone like Macavity shows up is to…" Haskin paused, squinting out at a cleared section by the fence corner.

"Trouble?"

"There are two toms over by that fence," he said, pointing with his nose. "Wait, someone's coming out of the tunnel. A grey kit… Oh dear."

Munkustrap was nearly sick. It was Old Deuteronomy, and the two toms getting closer.

The grey kitten's eyes widened. He backed towards the hole he had come up from, but Flea quickly jumped between him and his escape. Deuteronomy turned to face the larger tom.

"Say your prayers to your Everlasting Cat, kit," he sneered, and brought his heavy paw down.

Deuteronomy jumped out of the way, but the tom's claws had caught him across the cheek, spilling blood onto his face. He dodged another blow, and another, and another. He hoped to lure Flea away from the exit. But he stayed put, and Rat was getting closer.

The Jellicle leader was finally backed against a wall; there was no where he could run. He was trapped. He looked up to see the large tom grinning down at him.

Rat brought up his paw, and brought it down to strike. But before it made impact, something tacked him and knocked him to the ground. A silver something.

A brown streak tore out of the hole, and directly into Flea, who gave a loud yowl. It was Haskin, easily pinning the smaller cat. But Flea wriggled out of his grasp, and dashed out the open patch in the fence. Rat kicked his attacker off of him, and followed him companion.

Deuteronomy couldn't help it. He cried. He dropped to his haunches, and tears began to flow.

Munkustrap, who had been the one who had gotten Rat, hurried over to him and nuzzled him comfortingly. "Don't cry, Deuteronomy. They're gone, they can't get you. You're bleeding!"

"It's just a scratch," he sniffed, wiping at his face but managing only to smear the blood.

"We saw you from the lookout," Haskin said, pointing towards a crow's nest-like addition on the roof of the tunnelled junk piles. "We came as fast as we could."

"Were these cats your warriors?" Munkustrap asked sharply, looking up from the sobbing kit.

The brown tom shook his head. "No. My warriors would never attack a cat without a reason, and they would never harm a kitten. I have never seen those two before."

"They said their names were Rat and Flea," Deuteronomy said tearfully.

"Only one 'tribe' could have names like that," the silver tabby muttered, swallowing hard. "They must have been from Macavity's circle. Did they know who you were?"

The kit shook his head. "I said I was a Jellicle, not a Yalta, and then they said they were going to kill me. I don't think they knew I was the Jellicle leader."

Jabirus and the Jellicle guests scrambled out of the hole.

"We heard the scream," Rumpelteazer panted. "Granddad! Everlasting Cat, what happened to you?"

"A couple of Macavity's thugs," Munkustrap scowled, licking the blood away from the kitten's face. "There were two of them against him, and they cornered him. The wound's not as bad as it looks, though."

"You okay, kit?" the Rum Tum Tugger asked, actual concern on his face.

The kitten nodded, trying to compose himself. "It doesn't hurt that much, I was just scared."

"We should get you back and have Jenny take a look at you," Munkustrap said, glancing back over to the Yalta leader. "Is there a chance we could finish this at a later date?"

Haskin nodded. "Of course. I'll send a messenger to your junkyard."

"Come on, Deuteronomy, let's go," the silver tabby said, urging the kit to his paws. The six were guided through the tunnels and back onto the main street by Jabirus.

"Ow! Ow! Jenny, it stings!"

"That means it's working. Now hold still or I'll get this stuff all over the place."

Rumpelteazer and Mungojerrie had brought their grandfather back to their house in Victoria Grove to have their mother clean his cut properly. He wasn't taking it well.

All the twins, Munkustrap, and Mistoffelees could do was sit there as the Gumbie Cat held him down and doused his face with disinfectant from her human's medicine cabinet. The Rum Tum Tugger had headed home as soon as possible.

"It's not as bad as it could have been," the marmalade queen sighed, wiping the foaming liquid off with her paw. "Still… Mistoffelees, maybe you should check for internal bleeding."

"They only hit me once!" Deuteronomy protested. "And it wasn't even that hard!"

"I don't think it's necessary, Jenny," agreed the tuxedoed tom. "He seems just fine. He's even got his energy back."

"How did the meeting go?" the Gumbie Cat asked, releasing her father, who instantly ran for cover behind Mistoffelees.

"Unless you count the fact that Old Deuteronomy was nearly beaten to a pulp, good," Munkustrap sighed. "He was well-behaved, something that shocked me. He's really becoming more mature. Which is more that I can say for Mungojerrie."

"Just 'cause I don't act like I've got milk up my nose…" the tom sniffed.

"Hey, Munkustrap, I'm going to take Deuteronomy to the junkyard for a magic lesson, okay?" Mistoffelees said. "We'll be there when you need to take him home."

"Might as well go with them before Mum decides to tackle us, too," Mungojerrie nodded. He and his sister following the two magical cats.

As soon as they were gone, the silver tabby shifted into questioning mode. "Did you know Macavity used to be a Yalta? Is that why you hate them so much?"

"There's a bit more to it then that," Jennyanydots frowned, replacing the cap on the bottle of disinfectant.

"You have to tell me, Jenny. I'm pretty sure whatever's eating you is what's giving Deuteronomy nightmares. He's woken up crying almost every night this week."

The Gumbie Cat bit her lip. "I guess you do need to know. After all, you are the Jellicle Protector. Just please, keep this between us."

"I will."

She sighed before starting. "I suppose I should start by saying I wasn't Old Deuteronomy's only kit. I had an older brother named Orion, and a much younger sister named Ramada…"

_"Here she is, you two," Old Deuteronomy smiled proudly. "Your new sister."_

The kitten's fur was orange, like her mother's, but it was the same light shade as Jenny's. Her eyes were a deep brown like her father's.

"I'm sorry you couldn't see her sooner, but we couldn't risk you passing that flu virus on to little Ramada," Heliotrope said, watching as her mate licked his latest progeny lovingly. "Still, twelve days is a long time to wait for something this special."

"She's beautiful," Orion smiled. He was a silvery-grey cat with broad shoulders and a muscular body. He was the Jellicle Protector, and there wasn't a cat in the junkyard who could defeat him in a wrestling match.

Jenny nuzzled the tiny kit, and then noticed something. "She hasn't got a tail."

"Yes, we too noticed that," her mother sighed. "It's a sort of birth defect. It's not overly common, but it's been known to happen. But the rest of her is perfect, and her mind is undamaged."

"She doesn't need a tail," the Jellicle Protector insisted. "Besides, it makes her unique."

Asparagus, the Theatre Cat's youngest son, poked his head in the car trunk Heliotrope used for a den. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Old Deuteronomy, but there are two cats out here who wish to become Jellicles."

The large grey tom got to his feet, and jumped out of the den. He winched slightly, his bones had been getting stiff recently.

Before him sat a muscular ginger tom and an almost-tom of the same colour and pattern.

Obviously related, the Jellicle leader thought. Probably father and son. Aloud, he said "Greetings. I am Old Deuteronomy, the leader of the Jellicle tribe. Who are you two?"

Both cats bowed respectively. "My name is Cronus," the older one said. "My son here is Macavity. We have been living on the streets since my son was small, and we would like to become Jellicles."

"Old Deuteronomy, I don't like the look of these two," Asparagus hissed into his leader's ear.

"We cannot judge them before we know them," he replied softly. To the newcomers, he said "You two can stay in the junkyard while I decide whether or not you can become permanent Jellicles."

"Thank you very much, sir," Cronus said, sounding genuine. If Deuteronomy had been looking close enough, however, he would have seen a dangerous glint in his eye.

That night, Old Deuteronomy spent the night in the junkyard instead of at his newfound human's house. He didn't know why, but he was uneasy. He reasoned it was because the moon was almost full. He stargazed until he finally drifted into a restless sleep behind his tire throne.

He awoke several hours later to a great noise. The grey tom darted up, and saw Cronus on top of Othello, Gus's eldest. The ginger tom's claws were stained with blood, and several other bodies lay around him, their throats having been slit before they knew he was there. Deuteronomy identified them as Othello's mate, Grizabella's sister, and Jellylorum's mother and father.

The only thought that ran through his mind as he threw himself at the ginger tom was that Asparagus had been right. He had trusted those two, and they had played him for a fool. He tackled the cat, and pinned him to the ground.

Cronus was smaller than the Jellicle leader, but he was strong, and much younger. He kicked Deuteronomy in the stomach with his hind paws, and made a break in the opposite direction.

Free, he was free! But he wasn't familiar with the junkyard. He didn't know the side entrance led directly onto the road, as it was blocked from view by a large junk pile. It was dark, and he didn't see the road, nor did the car see him.

If Old Deuteronomy had stayed longer, he would have eventually have heard the screeching of brakes and a small thump… He bolted for his mate's den, where his son and young daughter also slept. Jennyanydots had taken up residence in Victoria Grove with her humans.

When he got there, he was nearly sick. There was blood everywhere, including on the still forms of his three family members. And there stood little Macavity, panting and grinning like a maniac.

The younger cat caught him in the shoulder, his claws unsheathed. Deuteronomy felt no pain. He tried to fight back, but grief and anger and disgust made him clumsy. Macavity finally knocked him off of his paws, and fled into the night.

"Everlasting Cat," Munkustrap said, once Jennyanydots had finished. "Everlasting Cat."

"No one ever mentioned that night again," the Gumbie Cat said, keeping her composure but not looking the tabby in the eye. "It was like an unspoken law."

"Wait, that's why Old Deuteronomy almost killed himself, isn't it?"

The queen nodded. "They found the bodies the next morning and came looking for him. They found him on the roof of the vicarage, just starring at the ground. But when they talked to him, he was calm and normal. He came down, and never said another word about it to the tribe. When we found out the two had been Yaltas, the proposed alliance shattered because most of the tribe thought they had been sent to murder Old Deuteronomy and his family. He told me the whole story a few months before he went to the Heaviside Layer."

"Cronus had been banished from his tribe," Munkustrap said. "Haskin told me today. Attempted murder, obviously."

"What had you been saying about Deuteronomy's nightmares?" Jennyanydots asked, quick to change the subject.

"Oh, he's been shaking in his sleep, and sometimes he sobs or even screams out loud. He always mumbles about blood and 'him', who's obviously Macavity."

"Poor kit," the Gumbie Cat sighed.

"Maybe that's why he came back without his memories!" he exclaimed. "It's like Rumpelteazer said, he put up a barrier so he wouldn't remember that one thing, and something went wrong."

"No, that's not how it works, Munkustrap," said Jenny. "My father told me much about the Heaviside Layer. No one can control it but the Everlasting Cat, not even Old Deuteronomy. If it was the Layer that blocked off his mind, it was the Everlasting Cat Herself who made it happen."

The tabby sighed heavily. "I'd better go to the junkyard. At least I can keep an eye on the little demon there."

"It'll all come round right eventually, Munkustrap," Jennyanydots said comfortingly.

"Thanks," he muttered, bounding up the basement stairs and out the cat door.

__

AN: This was a long one… Oh, and trust me, this isn't it for Deuteronomy's past. The motive, for example, is missing, and I just can't leave it at "Oh, they just hated him for some unexplained reason". And before anyone asks, yes, Haskin is weird. There is a reason for that. It's coming, okay? I'm only one writer…


	13. The Truth

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AN: Thanks to Krissy4, who inspired the first scene of this chapter. It originally wasn't included, but I had to think of how Macavity would react to knowing Deuteronomy wasn't dead.

"Master Macavity, sir?" asked a small black and orange tom timidly.

"What?" snapped the ginger tom.

"Rat and Flea have returned, sir. Should I send them in?"

A small grin appeared on his face. "Excellent! Send them in, right away. And get out!"

"Yes sir!" the tom squeaked, hurrying out while the two others limped pathetically into the Napoleon of Crime's throne room and bowed painfully.

"What in the name of the Eternal Pollicle happened to you two?" hollered Macavity. "Don't tell me those half-rate Yalta guards did this."

"No, sir," Rat muttered, dropping his gaze. "It was that bloody Jellicle Protector and Haskin himself, sir. They jumped us."

"And why were you seen at all?" fumed the large ginger cat.

"Well, ya see, sir," Flea started hesitantly. "There was this little kitten there when we slipped in. We was just gonna rough him up a bit, but he said he was a Jellicle, and we know how much ya hate them, so… We tried to, ya know, finish the little bugger off. Before we know it, those two spring outta nowhere and tackle us. We got away, and dragged ourselves back here."

"You didn't get any information at all?! And what was Munkustrap doing in Yalta territory?"

"Don't know, sir," they replied in unison.

Macavity turned his back. "Get out, both of you. Incompetent fools, you're lucky I don't kill that pair of you!"

"Yes, sir," the two muttered, turning to go.

"Wait!" the Hidden Paw said suddenly. "This kitten… Was it Munkustrap's son?"

"Wouldn't know," shrugged Rat. "Didn't look much like him, though."

"What did it look like?"

"Oh, um… Small, pretty small. Thickish fur, mixed greys. Black collar, big brown eyes, bushy tail. Probably had a touch of Maine Coon in him… Why do you ask, sir?"

An indescribable look crossed his face before quickly disappearing. "It's none of your concern, you're just dumb muscle. Now get out of my sight!"

The pair scampered off, and the ginger tom gave and angry huff. So the old fool wasn't dead, like his contacts had assured him. The idiot must have sent himself to the Heaviside Layer! It could be no other, why else would a Jellicle kitten be in the Yalta tunnels? But Old Deuteronomy should have been smart enough not to be caught alone, and he certainly wouldn't have revealed his tribe…

He sighed, rubbing his temples. This was a real problem. His sources had told him that the Jellicle leader was dead, but he had known better. But what to do about the problem… Macavity sighed. He'd wait, for now. Give them a sense of security. Maybe encourage some rumours that he was dead. But when the time was right, he'd finally achieve what his father had started. There was two more cats to kill now, but he'd do it.

He'd wipe Old Deuteronomy's blood once and for all.

"Sir?" came a timid voice, interrupting his thoughts.

Macavity turned to see the small black and orange tom from before. "I thought I told you to leave me alone!"

"I'm sorry, Master Macavity, but there's a tom here to see you. He says it's important. Claims he's from Saint James's Street, and he had information about the Jellicle tribe."

The ginger tom opened his mouth to order him gone, but stopped. "Saint James's Street, hmm? Send him in."

"Old Deuteronomy?" whispered a voice. "Old Deuteronomy? Are you awake?"

The kitten looked up from the basket he shared with Munkustrap. Two familiar faces were at the top of the stairs. His face broke out into a grin. Careful not to wake the sleeping tabby, he quietly slunk away and up the stairs. The trio exited through the cat flap (which the tom human had finally installed), and into the night.

"We thought you wouldn't want to come tonight," Tantomile said, smiling softly at the kit. "We heard had happened at the Yalta junkyard." She couldn't help but eye the three claw marks across the leader's cheek. They had been too deep for his currently limited power to heal.

Deuteronomy shook his head. "No, I want to go. It helps clear my head."

Coricopat gave a faint grin. "You always said that about stargazing. All three of us often went to the vicarage to look at the constellations."

"Did we?" the grey kit asked, following the twins as they began to walk.

"Of course," Tantomile replied. "Who do you think taught us how to do it?"

"And remember, not a word of this to anyone," Coricopat warned. "If Munkustrap ever caught wind of this, we'd all be in trouble."

"I won't tell," Deuteronomy said firmly.

"Good," the female twin smiled. "It's a pity we can't take you up on the roof, there's too big a risk you might slip, even if we were carrying you. You used to go up there wherever possible. Well, before you got sick."

"You two sound like you knew I was sick before I did," the kit frowned. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Both cats were silent as they jumped up on the vicarage wall, the kitten behind them. Once they were settled, Tantomile sighed.

"Munkustrap hasn't told you yet how you were going to die, did he?"

"Yes he has. He said I had a very bad disease called cancer, and that I didn't notice it soon enough to stop it. But I didn't die, I sent myself to the Heaviside Layer."

"He's told you bits of truth and a few lies to bind them together," Coricopat said, glancing up at the sky.

"Munk would never lie to me!" said Deuteronomy fiercely. "I know he wouldn't!"

"I'm not saying he outright lied to you," Tantomile muttered, following her twin's gaze. "I'm just saying that maybe there are some gaps that he purposely left unfilled. And it might be for the best."

"What isn't he telling me?" the kitten demanded. "What happened?"

"We can't tell you, old one," Coricopat softly said. "Munkustrap must."

"Bustopher Jones, isn't it?" drawled a cold, hard voice. "What brings you all the way from Saint James's Street?"

The fat tuxedo tom twitched a bit when the cat spoke. "No doubt you've heard about Old Deuteronomy's 'rebirth'. What exactly are your opinions on this?"

"Of course I've heard of it. Two of my henchcats nearly caught the little nuisance. He'd be under my claws right now if it wasn't for that tabby protector. And I personally think that now he'll be easier to kill when the right time comes. But I know you didn't come here to discuss current affairs, Bustopher."

"I have amble reason to believe that kitten is not Old Deuteronomy. I think it's a bit too convenient that he returned with no memories," Bustopher Jones said, finally finding the courage to look up. "Munkustrap is using him to control the Jellicle tribe like a little living puppet. He'll bring the tribe to its downfall."

"And why on earth would I help you prevent this?" the ginger tom asked. "I'd like nothing greater than to see the disbanding of the Jellicle tribe."

"You want to hurt Munkustrap," the fat cat said, gaining confidence. "That's why I came to you. That's why you kidnapped Old Deuteronomy two Jellicle Balls ago, to hurt that tabby."

He was silent for a moment. "I suppose you have that partly right, Bustopher Jones. I do want to hurt Munkustrap. But how would attacking a fake achieve this?"

"Like I said, that little fur ball is Munkustrap's puppet. Once he's gone, the tabby is left holding the bag. He's the Jellicle Protector; it is his responsibility to guard him. Without their great leader, there will be panic. And it will be blamed on Munkustrap."

"Hmm," the younger tom mused. "Not a half bad plan, coming from the likes of you. But I believe you left out one little detail?"

"Oh?"

"What about the real Old Deuteronomy? Where is he?"

"I believe he either hasn't been reborn yet, or he is making his way back to the junkyard. It's possible that he's already been there, and Munkustrap turned him away, or maybe even killed him. I hope this is not the case."

"But what would happen if I kill the puppet Deuteronomy, and the real one comes back? Then what?"

"Then everyone would see what that tabby's been playing at. He'd be banished, maybe even executed. Old Deuteronomy would see him for what he's always been, and he'd be furious at having the wool pulled over his eyes. I doubt the tabby would have much longer to live."

"I think I like this plan," the ginger tom smiled. "I think I like this plan a lot."

"So you'll do it?" Bustopher Jones asked.

"Yes, I will. At the Spirit's Ball, it's but three weeks away. The entire tribe will be there, and their guards will be down."

"Excellent," grinned the fat tuxedo tom. "That gutter cat will get what's coming to him."

"Watch how you speak of my little brother, Bustopher Jones," chuckled Macavity. "Watch how you speak of little Munk."

Munkustrap woke up fairly early. He yawned and stretched, used to doing so without disturbing the kitten curled up next to him. But as soon as his brain was fully functioning, he realized that Deuteronomy wasn't there.

At first, panic crept up on him. He could be anywhere. But he quickly calmed, and looked around the room. The grey kitten was in the blanket-lined box the human had put down there when the kit first came, and he was staring at him with those deep brown eyes.

"What's wrong, Deuteronomy?" the silver tabby asked, padding over to him.

"Munk, how did I die?" he asked firmly, sitting up and curling his tail beside his right leg.

"I've told you before, you didn't really…"

"You know what I mean," he frowned. "How was I going to die before I sent myself to the Heaviside Layer?"

Now this was the Old Deuteronomy he had known. He was usually kind and even-tempered, but when he wanted to know something, his voice and his eyes were better than thumbscrews.

"I'm pretty sure you've asked me that before. You had cancer, and it spread throughout your body. I'm not exactly sure how cancer works, but it made you very sick and weak. But before you died, you sent yourself to the Layer."

"But where did I get the cancer?" he asked, drilling into him with his eyes. "I know you've been leaving something out, Munk."

Munkustrap took a deep breath. It was time to tell him. "Alright, alright. I didn't tell you before because I didn't want you to get mad at yourself. You had a human owner, a young girl. The cancer was in her, and you used your healing magic to remove it from her. It had to go somewhere, so you put it in yourself, and it spread."

The kitten was silent, slightly stunned by the information. "I almost killed myself?"

The tabby's mind flickered back for a moment to the vicarage roof, but he got a hold on himself. "Yes, I suppose you almost did."

"To save a human?"

"Yes."

More silence, followed by a curious "My human, what was she like?"

Munkustrap tried to chose his words carefully, but he couldn't lie anymore. "If you want my opinion, I honestly think she was a few whiskers short of a full set. She talked to us like we were all the same species, and I really don't think she had many human friends. I barely ever saw her parents, so I'm guessing they weren't around a lot. But she was very kind, always left cream out for us when we came to visit you."

"She did something, didn't she?" Deuteronomy said slowly. "She did something important for me."

"She was the one who carried you to the junkyard so you could get to the Heaviside Layer. You couldn't walk, you were too sick. I guess she sort of helped you be reborn."

"Where is she now?" the kitten asked.

"I'm not sure," Munkustrap admitted. "She might be in the same house, she might have moved, she could be anywhere."

"I can't remember anything about her, just that she did me a favour," the grey kit said, frowning a bit.

"Maybe it's for the best," the tabby said comfortingly. "After all, if you just showed up on her doorstep, she'd recognize you and that wouldn't be good. She thinks you're dead, she doesn't know anything about the Jellicles and rebirth. Dead cats just don't come back to life as kittens in the human world."

"Yeah, I guess," he sighed.

"So, am I forgiven?"

"For what?"

"For lying to you."

Deuteronomy smiled slightly. "You didn't really lie; you just purposely left certain gaps unfilled."

"Where'd you get that one?"

"Tantomile."

"Thought so."

"I forgive you, Munk," the kitten said finally, grinning up at him with his deep brown eyes.

Munkustrap also grinned himself. "Good. Now come on, there's planning to be done for the Spirit's Ball."

"So what's the Spirit's Ball, anyway?" asked Deuteronomy. He was sitting on the tire throne beside Munkustrap, Skimbleshanks, and Alonzo.

"It's a night to honour those who have passed on, and returned in a completely different form," Alonzo explained. "So that would basically mean everybody, because we're all spirits of other cats, but we're so different from our former selves, we can't tell who we were."

"So it's like a celebration of death?" the grey kit asked quizzically.

"No, it's a celebration of life," Munkustrap corrected. "It's a reminder that for new Jellicles to be born, old ones must die to come back as the new."

"And it's a chance for all the storytellers to scare the fur straight off of the kits," Skimbleshanks smiled. "You used to be right good at that. You gave poor Mungojerrie awful nightmares with one story you told about a witch in a cat's body."

"The Spirit's Ball isn't as important as the Jellicle Ball is, it's really more of a party," Alonzo added. "Mistoffelees tells me he's been working on some new tricks to perform. I personally think he's trying to impress Jemima. He'd have her by now is Victoria wasn't so protective of her big brother."

"Like how Mungojerrie's always trying to impress Juana," Deuteronomy said slyly. "But Rumpelteazer tries to distract him."

"Right," Munkustrap smiled. "You have to admit, Mistoffelees's come a long way from that shy little kitten who twitched at the slightest clatter. Remember the Jellicle Ball when Macavity jumped around and scared all the kits? Mistoffelees didn't waste too much time getting behind Old Deuteronomy."

"He'd have a bit of a hard time if he tries to do that this Ball," Skimble laughed.

"It's odd, how cats are always talking about things that happened to me, or things I did or said," the kitten mused. "But I can't remember any of it."

"Keep faith, lad," the Railway Cat said, smiling comfortingly. "You'll get yourself sorted out sooner or later."

"But will I still be me?" he frowned. "Or will I be some uptight old tom who acts like he's got a rat caught halfway down his throat?"

"Don't worry, you were never like that," Alonzo assured him. "Besides, you kind of act like you always did. Only more… kittenish. And harder to keep track of."

"The lad's right," agreed Skimbleshanks. "You were always a bit of a kitten at heart. You were wise and kind and friendly. Just like now."

"But a bit lacking in the wise category, I'm afraid," Munkustrap said dryly. "You'd really think that the Jellicle leader would be smart enough not to almost flatten his face trying to catch birds on a TV screen."

"How was I suppose to know that they weren't real?" Deuteronomy protested. "They were right in front of me, moving around!"

"Don't worry, we've all done it," Mungojerrie said, padding up and leaping onto the tire. "Teazer nearly strangled herself with that little clickie thing the humans use on that TV dealie with the huge panel of buttons."

"It's called a computer, and the 'clickie thing' is called a mouse," Munkustrap sighed.

"Why do they call it that?" Jerrie asked, sitting down.

"It's kinda obvious, isn't it?" Deuteronomy shrugged. "It's got a tail, makes weird little noises, breaks if you use it hard enough to have any fun with it… Makes sense to call them mouses."

"Mice," the silver tabby corrected. "And I thought it was you who kept destroying those!"

"Yeah, but why would humans think to call it a mouse?" Mungojerrie questioned "I think we've all concluded that they're not quite as bright as we are. Personally, I think the Everlasting Cat created them just to work the can opener."


	14. The Ink

Deuteronomy was a pretty sorry sight. His thick fur was soaking wet and dripping all over the sidewalk, his face was almost entirely covered by a black spot, and he wore a scowl.

"I've told you time and time again," Munkustrap sighed. "You don't chew on ink pens. But do you listen? No. You got what you deserved."

"No cat ever deserves a bath," he said, frowning furiously.

"Don't glare like that; you look enough like a Himalayan as it is."

It was a little past three o'clock, and the two were making their way to the junkyard. They had wanted to go earlier, but it had been raining until noon, and then Deuteronomy had felt a sudden urge to destroy something. He had picked a black fountain pen. The kit had gotten ink splattered all over his face, and had earned himself an hour long bath while the human queen tried to get it out, with no avail. And just when the scratch marks across his cheek had healed, too.

The Jellicle leader wasn't the only one having a bad day. A girl of about fifteen was fuming down the opposite sidewalk from the cats, and headed towards them. In six hours of school, she had cut her hand on a sharp piece of metal on her locker, nearly flunked a math test, and had forgotten all about her English homework.

She wore a typical school uniform, which included a grey sweater and a pleated plaid skirt. She had transferred to a private school two years ago, and wasn't overly happy about it. But her grandmother had died and left her money, to be used solely "for her education". In her opinion, the entire place was full of snobs and jerks.

At least it stopped raining, she thought with a sigh. The sidewalk's still soaked, though… She had missed the bus, and had to cut through a few places she didn't often go. She knew them well enough, but all she wanted to do was get home and wash the blood off of her sleeve.

Deuteronomy paused, looking across the street. There was a girl there, and she looked so familiar… Like he knew her. But he was sure he'd never seen her before.

The girl stopped, spying a grey kitten across the road. It looked just like… But that was impossible. He had been dead for almost two years ago. Yes, it'd two years in late December. But it looked just like him… She went to take a step closer.

A bus went by, hitting the puddle directly in front of the girl and soaking her with muddy rainwater. When the bus went by, the kitten was gone.

She felt like swearing, but she knew it wouldn't do any good. Her mother was going to kill her for getting her uniform so dirty.

It couldn't have been him, she reasoned. It had just been her imagination. There were hundreds of grey-based mixed breed cats wandering around London. Besides, that kitten had a black face. Deuteronomy had only had touches of dark grey on his paws, chest and tail… Christine sighed, shaking her head. It was bad enough she had talked to her cat when he was alive, now she was seeing him when he was dead.

She really should tell her mother, if she ever stopped to listen to her. She'd get a kick out of it. Mum, I see dead kitties. Ah, it had been a long day.

Deuteronomy stared at the girl, and went to step forward.

"Come on," Munkustrap said, nudging him away from the road and into an alley shortcut. "The street's dangerous, you know that."

He followed the tabby, and didn't get another look at the girl. He had probably just seen her around the neighbourhood, anyway.

"She said yes! She said yes! Oh, Everlasting Cat, she said yes!"

"What's wrong with him?" the Jellicle Protector asked, nodding his head at Mungojerrie, who was currently going to fits of joy.

"He asked Juana to be his mate," Jennyanydots sighed.

"Three guesses to what her answer was," Skimbleshanks said wearily.

"Aw, I can't believe how fast our Jerrie's growing up," grinned Rumpelteazer. "Just think, pretty soon you two will be Grampa Shanks and Granny Jenny."

"Yeah, and you'll be Auntie Teazer," Munkustrap reminded her, giving her a poke in the shoulder. "Imagine, your little brother getting mated before you. You're going to end up a spinster at this rate."

"You're older than me and you're not mated!" she protested.

"I'm not older by much, despite what your maturity displays, and I've had my paws full for the last few years," he scowled. "And now, I'm too busy with a kitten to take a mate."

"What about Demeter?" questioned Jennyanydots. "She was getting rather friendly with you after you saved her from Macavity."

"Yeah, but she moved on. She had a crush on Alonzo until he mated with Cassandra, then she moved on to Mungojerrie, but that ended quickly. I don't know who she's going to target next."

"I never really saw Dem as that kind of queen," Teazer commented. "Always saw her sister flitting around, not her."

"I think Bombalurina's nearly ready to settle down," Skimbleshanks said. "She and the Rum Tum Tugger have been spending an awful lot of time together lately."

"I don't think she or the Tugger will ever really settle down," sighed Munkustrap. "Sure, they might have a kit together, but that's no guarantee they'll stay together."

The four watched the calico-like tom for a moment, who was still running around, practically doing back flips, and hugging any unfortunate Jellicle who happened to walk by.

"So," Rumpelteazer said, breaking the silence. "Where's Inky gotten off to?"

"Playing with Gus and the other kittens. Jemima's watching them. And I'd prefer it if you didn't refer to the Jellicle leader as Inky in the future."

"You've got to admit that the lad did look funny," Skimble smiled. "Looked like one of those Himalayan cats with the black face and the thick fur."

"Probably the first time he's ever looked like any specific breed of cat," Jennyanydots sighed. "As far as anyone can guess, including himself, he's some obscure cross between Maine Coon, Longhair Tabby, and possibly Persian."

"It's better that he blend in," Munkustrap shrugged. "That way, he won't draw attention. He doesn't stand out."

"Oh, he stands out just fine," Teazer snorted. "I'm serious; you could put him in a line of fifty other kittens who look exactly like him, black face and all, and still be able to pick him out. I don't know what it is, it's just… he's Old Deuteronomy. You can't mistake him for anyone else."

"Obviously Bustopher Jones can," muttered Skimbleshanks, and his daughter and Munkustrap nodded in grim agreement.

"Oh, would you lay off poor Bustopher!" Jenny exclaimed. "He hasn't harmed a fly, and you're all treating him like he's going to tear out Father's throat the first chance he gets."

"I'm just not letting my guard down," the Jellicle Protector sighed. "It's my duty to protect Old Deuteronomy and the tribe. I promised him that, and I intend to keep my word."

A tom slunk through the entrance of the junkyard, unseen by anyone. All of the Jellicles were around the centre area, by the tire or the Old Ford.

The newcomer appeared to by a common tabby, with a white-based coat and brown strips lacing his body. But he wasn't a tabby; there was one little detail about him that gave him another name.

He was silent as he carefully made his way into the depths of the large junkyard. He had to make his way to the tire area. He was sure to find him there. He walked for several minutes, unaware that he was being followed.

There was a clatter as something hit a tin can.

The tabby-like tom spun around to face a furry, black-faced someone.

"Hello!" the kitten said brightly. "Who are you?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you supposed to be wandering around alone?"

"No," he admitted. "But I know the junkyard really well. I never get lost."

"Are you a Jellicle?"

"Yes," he answered, and then paused. "You're not going to try to kill me now, are you?"

A confused look crossed the tom's face. "No, I'm not. Erm, I'm looking for a Jellicle here, maybe you could help me."

"Maybe I could. What's their name?"

"Old Deuteronomy," the striped cat said, careful to pronounce the name right.

The grey kitten's face lit up. "Oh! That's lucky!"

"Why? Do you know where I can find him?"

"Yep! I am him."

This stunned the tom. There was no possible way that kitten was Old Deuteronomy. "I think I'm looking for a different one. The Old Deuteronomy I'm looking for is very old, he's the Jellicle leader."

"I'm old, I was just reborn," the kit insisted. "And I am the Jellicle leader, even though Munk does mostly everything."

"I'm pretty sure Old Deuteronomy doesn't have a black face," he said, a last ditch effort.

"Oh," he said, slinking back a bit. "That's not my real fur colour, it's ink."

"Ink?"

"It's kind of a long story."

"Ah. Look, this… Munk. Is he your father?"

"Course not!" Deuteronomy snorted. "I'm _way_ too old to be Munk's son. Beside, he hasn't even got a mate. I think he's gonna end up with Teazer, though. But don't tell him I said that. Munk's my second-in-command, and he's also the Jellicle Protector."

"Well, could you show me to where this Munk might be?"

"Sure!" he smiled, nodding. "Just follow me. Oh, and his name's not Munk, I just call him that. He might get mad if you do. His real name's Munkustrap. But I'm not good with long names. 'Cept for my own, anyway. I don't know why, but no one ever shortens my name to Deut or anything. I think it must be a respect thing or something."

"Right," the tom said awkwardly. He wasn't used to being around kittens; especially little chatter boxes like this one obviously was.

"So, what's your name?" Deuteronomy asked. "You never did tell me."

"It's Savon," he replied.

"If you were a house cat, who gave you your second name?"

"How did you know I was a house cat?"

"I just did. Besides, your claws are clipped and your fur's pressed down where your collar used to be."

"I gave myself the name Savon."

"Well, Savon? Did you know your tail's gone?"

He gave a small smile. "Yes, I did know that."

"Oh. Where'd it go?"

"I was born without one," he said, a bit proud. "I'm a special breed of cat called Manx. We're pretty rare, and none of us have tails."

"I never knew that," the kitten shrugged. "Well, come on. I'll show you where Munk is. If he gets a bit mad at you, don't take it personally. Tugger says he's a spaz."

Savon held back a laugh as he followed the tiny grey kitten. If this was indeed Old Deuteronomy, he had been seriously misinformed.

"I don't know where he went! He just disappeared!" Jemima insisted. "One minute he was there, the next he wasn't! He's always doing that, you know that!"

"You were supposed to be watching him," Munkustrap glared. "What was so important that you left the Jellicle leader and three other kittens unattended to do?"

"Her and Mistoffelees were _talking_," said Grizabella matter-of-factly, Gus and Chelonian nodding in agreement. "She shouldn't be sneaking off to flirt with him instead of looking after little defenceless kittens."

"I can't believe this!" the queen exclaimed. "I'm getting a lecture on morals from the Glamour Cat!"

"Munk! Hey Munk!"

The Jellicle Protector turned to see Deuteronomy coming towards him with a strange cat. He leapt to the leader's side, putting himself between the leader and the newcomer.

"What do you want?" he asked, a hint of a growl in his voice.

"Munk, this is Savon. He said he came to see me, but he wants to talk to you, too."

"How do you know he's not with Macavity?" the tabby hissed.

"I just know," Deuteronomy said firmly. Kitten or not, when Old Deuteronomy _just knew _something, the case was closed.

"He hasn't got a tail!" Chelonian exclaimed. "Did you get banished from the Yaltas?"

Munkustrap turned to Jemima. "Could you take the kittens somewhere else? Deuteronomy can stay here with me."

She nodded, and quickly herded the three out of the area.

"Now, Savon," the silver tabby said, taking a seat on the ground. "What exactly did you wish to talk to me about?"

"Actually, I came to meet with Old Deuteronomy, but…" he trailed off, and gestured to the kitten.

"He was reborn in the Heaviside Layer, and returned without his memories," sighed Munkustrap. "I am his guardian and I make all major decisions for him while he is in his current state."

"Ah, well… First of all, I was a house cat. I lived in a high class neighbourhood in a mansion. My breed's very rare, and rich humans seem to be drawn to particular breeds. But my humans moved to America. They couldn't bring me with them, so they tried to sell me. Finding no one, they simply let me go free."

"How did you come to hear of Old Deuteronomy and the Jellicles?"

"A kitten of my human's friend once told me of them, but it was years ago. I asked around until I found the junkyard. I can't remember the kit's name, but she was pure white."

"Victoria," the grey kitten smiled. "See, Munk? He's not a psycho."

Munkustrap frowned. "I never said he was a psycho, Old Deuteronomy. Savon, what makes you think you are worthy to be a Jellicle?"

"Since when did a cat have to be worthy to be a Jellicle?" interrupted the kit. "It's not an elite club or anything. You said I welcomed everyone, as long as they have a heart that's true to the cause of the Everlasting Cat. And Savon has that. I just know it."

The Manx gave a small smile. "Is he always like that?"

Munkustrap sighed. "Most of the time. Unfortunately. I suppose he's right, though. If he _just knows _something, it's not up for discussion. Welcome to the Jellicle tribe, Savon."

He bowed to both the tabby and Deuteronomy. "Thank you very much."

"Well, now that you're one of us… In the matter of your tail…"

"He was born without it," the Jellicle leader piped. "He's a rare breed of cat called Manx. Even I knew that, Munk."

Savon actually laughed, something he hadn't done in a long time. "I can see that my time here will be far for uneventful."

"Like him? We've got two more reborn kittens, and he's got a pair of grandkits who you have to meet. Oh, and if Mungojerrie hugs you, don't take it personally. He's a bit weird today."

"Something tells me this is going to be a far cry from the cream and cushions I was used to," he smiled. "By that way… This may be a little bold, but… Is it normal to have a name you know isn't yours, yet you know it's yours?"

Munkustrap looked at Deuteronomy. "How in Heaviside do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Find Jellicles."

He shrugged. "It's my job, isn't it? Build my tribe and therefore the followers of the Everlasting Cat."

The tabby ruffled his fur. "You're growing up too fast. Come on, Savon, I'll introduce you to Jennyanydots and Skimbleshanks."

__

AN: I am proud to say that Cats had saved my butt once again! Who'd have thought it'd be useful for geography tests? Just look…

No

Cats

PRide

Pouncival's

Antics

Northern Territories

Central

PRairie

Pacific

Atlantic

The territories of Canada, from largest to smallest. I'm so smart… Anyway, review!


	15. The Rocks

_AN: The Spirit's Ball just hasn't happened yet. It's coming, though. And I discovered that Savon is the name of a drugstore. Oops... _

The action in the junkyard had picked up considerably as the Spirit's Ball drew closer and closer. Savon was introduced to the tribe, and mostly everyone had taken an instant liking to his shy yet reasonably friendly personality. Juana, Demeter, and Cassandra took a liking to his stories of life in the lap of luxury. Mungojerrie and Alonzo, of course, were seeing green. The black and white tom was pacified, however, by the fact that Cassandra was carrying their second litter.

Deuteronomy's face had returned to its natural colour thanks to a spell Mistoffelees whipped up, although Rumpelteazer would have preferred to leave him looking like a racoon. She had stopped calling him Inky, in any case.

It was a nice day in the junkyard, as far as October days went. The wind was a bit cool, but Deuteronomy's fur was thick and he didn't mind a little cold. He was chasing a ball his humans had bought him around in a corner of the junkyard, away from the tire area.

Munkustrap, Alonzo, and most of the other adults were busy planning the Ball, Mistoffelees had gone off for the day, Gus and Chelonian were at the theatre with Jellylorum, and Grizabella hadn't come to the junkyard.

The Jellicle leader didn't mind playing by himself. Despite his active personality, he liked the occasional moments of peace and quiet. He was content to pounce and toss his toy on his own.

"What are you doing so far from the Jellicle Protector?" asked a voice.

Deuteronomy turned around. It was Bustopher Jones. "Munk said I could come over here and play while he and everyone else talked about the Spirit's Ball."

"Did he, now?" drawled the fat tuxedo. "I'd never have thought that the grand Jellicle leader would ever find pleasure in chasing a ball of rubber around like a senseless idiot."

The grey kitten backed away a bit as the larger cat advanced. He was sensitive to the emotions of other cats, and right now hostility was dripping from the tom's every pore. "Munk told me that I once said to be truly happy, one must find pleasure in simple things. Things like stargazing. And play."

"Munkustrap has to tell you everything, doesn't he? He tells you what to do and say, correct?"

"No he doesn't," scowled Deuteronomy. "Go away! Leave me alone!"

"He's using you, you know," Bustopher continued. "You're just a stray he picked off of the street. I wouldn't doubt it if that magical cat put a spell on you to make you look like Old Deuteronomy."

"Go! Now!" the kitten growled.

"You will not order me around. You are not the Jellicle leader. Your time as a puppet leader is drawing to a close, you little runt. You and your precious Munk will soon be dead."

"You lie," Deuteronomy hissed.

The tom drew back his paw and hit Deuteronomy across the face. "You'd do well to watch your mouth, urchin!"

An unseen watcher behind a pile of junk whinched as the paw connected with the leader's face, but did nothing. How could he…

The tiny kitten stumbled backwards. One of the tuxedo's claws had caught, and a single cut slowly began to bleed. His face stung, it would surely bruise. He was speechless.

"If you know what's good for you, kit, you won't speak a word of this to Munkustrap or anyone else," Bustopher Jones threatened before stalking off.

The watcher bowed his head and turned away.

Deuteronomy dropped to his haunches, his ball long forgotten. What did he mean, wasn't the real Old Deuteronomy? If he wasn't the Jellicle leader, then who was he?

"Something is troubling you, elder," Tantomile said, turning her gaze from the sky to the kitten beside her. "What is it?"

"It's nothing," he responded quickly. He had gotten the blood off of his face before he went to see Munkustrap, and he had managed to heal most of the cut and bruise with his green sparks. What remained was well hidden by his thick fur. He had told no one. "I'm just a bit tired. I think I'll go home."

"We'll go with you," said Coricopat. "It's becoming dangerous to be on the streets at night."

"I can take him back if you want," offered a slightly timid voice from behind.

"Savon," the female twin greeted without turning around.

"What brings you here at this hour?" asked her brother.

"I couldn't sleep," he shrugged. "I decided to take a walk around. I was going to head back to the junkyard, but I could take Old Deuteronomy home, I know where he and Munkustrap live."

"Thank you for offering," Tantomile said. "But I think that Old Deuteronomy would rather…"

"I can go with him," the kitten assured her. "I trust Savon; I can tell he's a good cat."

"It seems you are regaining not only your healing powers, but also your sixth sense," Coricopat commented, a faint smile playing on his face. "Go, old one."

He jumped off of the vicarage wall, and headed down the street with Savon. The Manx waited until they were out of the twins' earshot before he spoke.

"Old Deuteronomy…" he began awkwardly.

"You don't really need to keep adding Old to my name," the kit said, looking up at him. "It's really just a formal title. Not many cats call me by it normally."

Savon bit his bottom lip. "Deuteronomy, the thing is… I saw that cat, Bustopher Jones, hit you today."

"You… You did?" he asked, frowning. "You didn't tell anyone, did you?"

"No, not a soul," Savon assured him. "It's just that… I feel like I should have stepped in. I should have protected you. He's a respected Jellicle, isn't he? I didn't want to risk hurting him and getting thrown out of the tribe. I just stood and watched while he kicked you around. I'm sorry."

"He only hit me once," Deuteronomy said, trying to comfort him. He didn't bother mentioning he had a bruise covering the entire right side of his face. "I'm not going to tell Munk. It's no big deal."

"Of course it's a big deal! You're the Jellicle leader! No one should hurt you, especially not one of your own tribe. I mean, you're Old Deuteronomy! Even living nearly isolated in a mansion, I heard legends and stories about you. You're a god."

"I'm not a god," the kit sighed. "I'm just a scared little kitten who doesn't know what to do. And I have the feeling that I wasn't all I was cracked up to be in my former lives, either. I don't even know if I'm the real Jellicle leader or not."

"What do you mean by that?" Savon frowned.

"Bustopher Jones said something about me not being the real Deuteronomy. That Munkustrap tricked everyone… But he wouldn't do that, I know he wouldn't. But why would Bustopher think that?"

"You are the real Jellicle leader," the Manx said softly. "I wasn't even born a Jellicle, and even I can see that."

Deuteronomy was silent for a moment. "Savon? What do I do?"

"Well, first of all, if you want my opinion of that Bustopher Jones, I think he's not all there in the head and you'd best keep your distance from him. It's hard to believe he's Mistoffelees's uncle… If he approaches you again, don't talk to him. Just go to an older cat, like Munkustrap or Skimbleshanks. Don't ever allow yourself to be alone with him again."

"Should I tell Munk what happened?"

"Only if you feel you need to. But if he so much as retracts his claws around you, make sure you're close to someone. I don't know what it is about that cat, but… He's no good. I think the rest of the tribe is beginning to see that, and he knows it. Something's coming, I just don't know what."

The kitten looked up at him for a minute. "Savon, I think you might have the sixth sense like the twins and me."

He glanced down sharply. "The sixth sense? Surely I don't…"

"It's definitely not the same as Coricopat and Tantomile's," Deuteronomy interrupted. "It's kind of… like Demeter has, only a bit stronger. The twins say that whatever she has is a mix between a strong queen's intuition, and plain and simple paranoia."

"I'll agree with that," he muttered. He had witnessed several of the queen's panic attacks, and not so much as a ginger hair had been found two miles within the junkyard each time.

"You can tell a cat's intentions, can't you? You know if they're good or bad or if they're going to help you or murder you. I bet you're just getting these now because you were cooped up in a house all of your life and had no need for it."

"Maybe you're right," the tailless tom shrugged. "Maybe I do have something like that. Then again, maybe I don't. I don't really care all that much. But Deuteronomy, be careful. Something's coming, and it's coming fast. I don't like it one bit."

"Neither do I," the kitten said softly, meaninglessly kicking at a rock on the sidewalk "Neither do I."

_"What did I do?" the girl asked, pressing a wet dish towel above her eye. "What did I do? I walked by them, and I must have somehow offended them deeply enough to justify them throwing rocks at me. Insults I don't mind so much. But rocks, those I mind. I mean, it's just plain immature." _

Old Deuteronomy gave a sympathetic meow and crawled into her lap. Poor girl…

She stroked the cat between the ears with her free hand. "I mean, what did I do to deserve this? I know I'm weird. I'm sitting here right now venting to my cat. But did they really need to throw the rocks? And Mum wonders why I prefer cats to people. I bet no cat's ever thrown a rock at you, Norrington."

One kidnapped me once, he thought to himself. But no, no rocks were involved.

"And then some redhead jumps in and acts all noble, telling them to beat it. Probably had friends hiding in the bushes who dared her to do it. I just took off, I didn't want to be the joke of the day."

She took the towel from her head, and sighed. "Still bleeding. It's going to leave one bugger of a bruise, that's for sure. What am I going to tell Mum? If she even notices, anyway. I swear, I've had it up to here with her. Dad too, he's even worse."

The old cat purred in an attempt to sooth her, although part of him knew it wasn't going to work. She really had every right to hate her parents. Both he and his human spent many nights lying awake while the two argued in the kitchen directly above their heads.

"I found a tube of lipstick in his car the other day," the girl said, her voice suddenly full of bitterness. "It was bright red; Mum would never be caught dead wearing it. It had the initials GH engraved in it. Mum's are KL."

Deuteronomy flattened his ears against his head. He had never liked his human's father, but he hadn't thought he would do anything like that. It's not that he wasn't that type of man; it was just that the cat hated to think there was a person out there who would do that to his family.

"Why don't they just get a bloody divorce, for God's sake?" she questioned, dabbing away the fresh blood. "It'd make everyone a lot happier. But, no, let's stay together for the sake of the kid. Ha, more like the sake of their reputation. I swear, Norrington, I think you and I are the only sane ones in this house."

"Well, I am in any case," he muttered, twitching his tail slightly. "I'm not overly sure about you, kitten…"

"If they put on another display tonight…" she continued. "All of the neighbours have been looking forward to tuning in for another episode of the Langille Family Soap Opera. If they so much as raise their voices to each other when they get home, I'm going to march up there and tell them to shut the hell up. Of course, that would take courage and a backbone, neither of which I have…"

"Yes you do," he purred, rubbing up against her stomach. "You just don't know it yet. And if you did, you wouldn't get pushed around so much."

She sighed. "Do you remember where I put my copy of Paradise Lost? I was just getting to a good part last night, and I can't think where I would have put it."

"Under the nightstand, you knocked it under there by mistake," Old Deuteronomy offered, although he knew the human girl couldn't understand him.

She lifted the cat out of her lap and got down on her hands and knees, looking under the bed. "I don't know where I could have…" She happened to glance under the nightstand. "Aha!" She fished it out and settled herself back on the bed. She flipped open to where the bookmark was, and begun to read aloud while the cat climbed back onto her stomach.

Deuteronomy lifted his head sleepily and opened his eyes. As soon as he did this, his dream fled from him, never to be recalled come daylight. He yawned, huddled closer to Munkustrap, and was soon asleep again.

AN: Okay, I know what you're thinking. Christine had issues. And yes, she does. I mean, think about it. Her parents hate each other and ignore her, she has no friends, she gets shoved around, and no one cares except for her cat, so that's who she vents to. No, she's not normal. Not crazy, but not completely normal. Don't feel sorry for her, though, she's going to get a bit of a shock to the system before this thing is over.


	16. The Dreams

It was the day of the Spirit's Ball. Munkustrap had been woken at six o'clock in the morning by Deuteronomy's sobbing as yet another nightmare tortured him. He felt so bad for the little kit, but there was nothing he could do. Maybe I should see the twins once this ball is out of the way, he sighed to himself. In the meantime, all he could do was shake him awake and try to calm him. Not that he needed much calming now, he had almost grown used to the nightmares. Almost.

By the time the human kittens were out the door, Deuteronomy had succeeded in winding a ball of yarn around every piece of furniture on the living room. After that, the human queen threw them both out of the house for the day.

The junkyard was mostly calm, cats were resting themselves so they would have energy for the Ball. Mungojerrie and Juana were lying together giggling like kits, Jennyanydots was talking with Jellylorum about her mice, and Skimbleshanks hadn't gotten back from a train trip yet. Bustopher Jones wasn't there, hadn't been there, and according to word of mouth, didn't plan on being there any time soon.

This relieved Munkustrap a great deal. The Spirit's Ball would be that much more stressful if the Saint James's Street Cat was around just asking for trouble. Not to mention the fact that Deuteronomy would be terrified and would cling to him like Velcro.

A blanket of silence fell over the junkyard at around noon. Everyone rested themselves, preparing for the long night ahead. Even the kittens seemed to understand that they needed to conserve energy, for they either slept alongside their parents (or guardian, in Deuteronomy's case), or they just sat there in a half-trace, not really awake but not really asleep, either.

Mungojerrie had woken up, although he wasn't quite sure why, and he was just about to settle down next to his mate again when he turned to see two faces peering at him. He nearly had a heart attack.

"I've told you two not to sneak up on cats like that!" he hissed, gently rising so as not wanting to wake his mate. "You're going to kill someone one of these days!"

"We're sorry," the mystical twins said in perfect unison. "We thought you saw us."

"Why aren't you sleeping like everyone else?" he questioned, eyeing them.

"We were just checking up on some things," Coricopat replied.

"Things you wouldn't understand," Tantomile added.

"Well, bugger off and go annoy somebody else," the tom grumbled, laying back down.

"We just wanted to congratulate you," the twins said, in unison again.

"For what?"

They gave identical sly smiles.

"He must not know yet," Tantomile reasoned.

"He must not," agreed her twin.

"What are you two sideshow freaks talking about?" Mungojerrie demanded.

"You'll see," the said at the same time, turning to go.

The tom shook his head angrily. Those two annoyed him so much when they got like that…

"We know," they both said, walking away.

"Stay out of my bloody head!" he hollered. What he got for his troubles was a slew of shushing from his fellow Jellicles, and a cuff over the head from his mate.

The twins crept over to where the tiny Jellicle leader was curled up near Alonzo in the front seat of an old car. Munkustrap had gone out patrolling, and had left the black and white tom to guard him. Both were dead to the world. The grey kitten was trembling, however.

Both striped cats put a paw on Deuteronomy's forehead. In a flash, his dreams overtook them almost to the point of overwhelming shock. They pulled back, panting slightly.

"How can such a young one stand such a thing?" Tantomile questioned, gazing sadly at the small kit.

"He can stand it because he is not a young one," answered Coricopat. "But even for one as ancient and wise as Old Deuteronomy… It must be hard for him."

"You saw the blood?" the queen asked, although she knew the answer. Their minds were linked, what she had seen, he had seen, and vice versa.

He nodded slowly. "It is the same nightmare that troubled him in his former life. Only this is more… crude. Broken. And stronger. It is definitely strong."

"We cannot do anything for him." Tantomile said. It was a statement, not a question.

"No, sister, we cannot."

"Nor can we prevent what will come to pass tonight, whatever it may be."

"No. I only wish I knew just what will happen. But I suppose we are allowed to see only certain things at certain times for certain reasons."

"I only wish we knew if he would live or die tonight."

Coricopat sighed. "What is to be will be. Come, let us rest our bodies so that we will be prepared for the Spirit's Ball, and whatever happens."

Sometime after the pair had left, Alonzo awoke, hearing a mumbling coming from beside him. He looked over to see Deuteronomy, shaking like a leaf and muttered the word "blood" over and over again like a chant.

The black and white tom nudged the Jellicle leader with his nose. "Deuteronomy? Deuteronomy?"

The grey kitten opened his eyes blearily. "Alonzo? What is it?"

"Are you alright, sir? You look half sick, and you were talking in your sleep," the tom explained, frowning a bit.

"Oh, I was just having The Dream," he sighed. "It happens a lot. All I see is three bodies, and blood everywhere, and him…" The kit gave a small shudder. "Thanks for waking me. I'm going back to sleep." He settled back into the slightly ripped seat, and quickly went back to his nap.

Alonzo sighed. Munkustrap had warned him about the nightmares, but the way the little kitten had been shaking and twitching… He sighed again, laying his head down. But he couldn't seem to get to sleep. He was glad when the Jellicle Protector came back from his rounds.

"Everything's normal," the silver tabby said, sounding thankful. "Did Deuteronomy wake up at all?"

"He was having on of those nightmares, so I woke him up. He went right back to sleep, though. Like it was nothing."

"He's gotten used to them by now," Munkustrap sighed. "Well, as used to as one can get to something like that. I'm going to see Coricopat and Tantomile about it when I've got the time. Then again, they'll probably just get all occult on me and say 'This is the way of the higher powers and it is not left to us to shift them' or something like that."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," sympathized Alonzo. "I simply asked them if they knew what gender the kittens in Cassandra's litter were going to be. They got the unison thing going, and said that such things were not known to cats for right reasons. They could have just told me they didn't know, they didn't have to get snippy at me."

"Those two are odd, plain and simple. Useful, but odd."

"Tell me about it. I'm going to go back and sleep by Cass and Grizabella." He gave one last look to the Jellicle leader, and trotted off.

The silver tabby curled up beside the grey kitten, and gave his still form a small nuzzle before drifting into an undisturbed sleep.

"Well, I'm not the kind of girl who gives up just like that! Oh no!" Amber Tom sang to herself as she fed the last of the overnight animals at the clinic. In the last cage was a small beagle puppy, still half sedated and certainly not very aware of its surroundings. "The tide is high by I'm holding on! I'm gonna be your…"

"I wish you wouldn't sing like that," her mother sighed, tucking a strand of auburn hair behind her ear. "I think it spooks the animals. Hell, it spooks me."

"Everyone's a critic," she muttered, switching off the radio. "So, pretty much another boring week. No real surgeries, no emergencies, and no serious bites." With the last statement, she rubbed a rather prominent scar between her index finger and thumb.

"You deserved that bite," Dr. Tom smiled. "The owner warned you that cat didn't take easily to strange people. You scared the hell out of him with that bloody music up full blast just after the drugs wore off of him. And would you rather a week with animals with gaping wounds pouring in by the truckload?"

"Nah, that's not what I mean. I'm just… you know. Uneasy," she sighed, washing her hands in the nearby sink. "Something's going to happen. I can feel it in my bones."

"You're too young to feel things in your bones," the veterinarian grinned, tapping her lightly on the head with her clipboard before setting it on the counter. "A few months into fifteen and you think you know everything."

"That cat… the one who bit me… What was his name again? It was from Pirates of the Caribbean, I remember that…"

"That stupid movie you made me watch where all of the boys had long hair?"

"It wasn't stupid! Oh, damn, what was it? Jack? William? Turner? I don't know, something weird."

"I can't think of which one you're thinking of," her mother admitted. "I was away when that little incident happened, remember? I come home and see you with the first aid kit out, bleeding and swearing."

"You know, that ancient tomcat. It was, like, nearly two years ago. The one with those creepy deep brown eyes. Oh, you know! Huge Maine Coon-ish type, grey based… The one with the weird owner."

"Ah, that one… And she was not weird."

"She was weird!" Amber insisted, locking up a cabinet. "She sat in the waiting room during the entire surgery, her nose buried in a book, trying to pretend like she wasn't crying."

"People get emotional over their pets, Amber. Some more than others."

"She's a freak, Mum. I know her from school, but she transferred last year. She had no friends. Not one. All she did was read. A group of kids threw rocks at her one time."

The woman looked up sharply. "Please tell me you weren't in that group."

"No! Absolutely not! I mean, she's weird, but it's no reason to bleed her. I actually chased them off for her. Do you think she so much as looked at me for a thank you? Nope, she turned and high-tailed it home. You never see her out anywhere. If you ask me, she sounds like a prude."

"She's not a _prude_,", the vet sighed. "She's probably just…. confined."

"Prude."

Dr. Tom sighed again. "Do you even know what her name is?"

"Nah, can't remember. Caitlin, Catherine, something along those lines. I never talked to her. I don't think anyone really talks to her. Whatever happened to that cat anyway? I know we didn't put it down."

"The owner called us, said he wandered out one night and never came back. He'd be dead by now for sure, even without the cancer."

"That sucks. But hey, that's the way it goes, it's the circle of life, it moves us all, and so on and so forth."

"You know," her mother sighed. "If you plan on being a veterinarian, you've really got to work on the comforting part of it. You can't just tell a person that their pet kicked the bucket and walk away."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I've got time to work on it, okay?"

She sighed again. "So, are you going to file all of the paperwork for today, or are you busy?"

"I'm completely booked. There's a copy of Douglas Adam's _Last Chance to See _up in my room with my name written all over it."

When Munkustrap awoke, Deuteronomy wasn't there. He didn't panic. He had since learned that overreacting got him nowhere. Besides, there wasn't a place in the junkyard where he wasn't safe, not with every Jellicle in the city there.

He looked towards a corner of the centre area. Gus and Chelonian were horsing around Admetus, the oldest kitten of Jellylorum and Asparagus Jr. He was both Gus's brother and grandson. Rebirth was both a wonderful and extremely odd thing.

"It's not the experience of one life only, but of many generations," said a voice that made him jump.

"Everlasting Cat, Mistoffelees, don't do that! You're as bad as the twins!"

"Sorry," he said, not looking all that remorseful. "Thought I'd return Deuteronomy before the Ball starts." The kitten was by his paws, looking up at the Jellicle Protector.

"What did you mean by 'many generations'?" questioned Munkustrap.

He shrugged. "I'm just quoting from Moments of Happiness. It seemed appropriate."

"Did you understand that song?"

"Nope. Not a syllable. Personally, I think it was a load of confusing bunk."

"Better be careful," grinned the tabby. "The writer's standing right beside you."

"What?" asked Deuteronomy, frowning. "Who? What's Moments of Happiness?"

"It's the song you wrote," reported the Rum Tum Tugger, bounding up. "And a boring one at that. I'm sure it had some internal message or something, but it went right over my head."

"It wasn't boring," sighed Munkustrap. "The moments of happiness, we have the experience but miss the meaning. Approach to the meaning restores the experience in a different form."

"_I _wrote _that_?!"

"Yes."

"Munkustrap… you did mention that my human gave me painkillers for a while, didn't you? I'm just wondering if… you know…"

The Rum Tum Tugger burst out laughing, while Mistoffelees had to hide a smile at Munkustrap's expression.

"No, that song was written years, _lives_, before you ever had humans, let alone were on medication. There is a meaning to Moments of Happiness, you know. It's not just a pointless song."

"Then what is the meaning?" Deuteronomy asked, smirking up at him with a challenging look.

"Well… I don't know it _personally_…"

"Then how do you know there is one?"

"Because you wouldn't have sang it if it was just pointless babble."

"Maybe I was just yanking your chain."

"He's got a point there, Munk," grinned the Tugger.

"It is a possibility," admitted Mistoffelees.

The tabby scowled, muttered something inaudible, and stalked off, the grey kitten bouncing after him.

Macavity paced in his chamber, debating whether or not he should do what he had promised the tuxedo cat. He had given his word, of course, but the word of the Hidden Paw was as worthless as gravel. On one paw, Old Deuteronomy would be killed and Munkustrap would suffer. On the other, he'd be lowering himself to a cat for hire.

Suddenly a brilliant idea struck him, and the corners of his mouth lifted into what could justify as a smile. Why not have his fish and eat it, too? Show Bustopher Jones that he was no one's servant, and still keep his little brother on the edge. And if Old Deuteronomy died in the process, all the better for him.

With that settled, he drifted off for a while, preparing himself for the chaos he was going to create.

__

"Why are we doing this, Father?" the barely-tom asked. "What did the Jellicle leader do?"

"Many things he shouldn't have," growled the older cat. "But he's crossed the line now. He's changing things that shouldn't be changed. He needs to be stopped."

"It's because… he wants to let demons live, isn't it?"

"Not only that, but we were banished for doing our duty to the felines of the world. If this goes on…" He shook his head. "Deuteronomy and his family must die at all costs."

There was a sobbing from the corner, and Cronus spun to face it.

"Shut up, wench! There are other queens I could use, so I wouldn't be pushing my limits if I were you!"

The light coloured queen sniffed, pushing a steel-grey tabby kitten away from her. "You'll never kill Old Deuteronomy! Orion will strike you down where you stand!"

The large tom snorted, and roughly shoved the kit back towards its wet nurse. "That washed-up pansy? All he can do is swat flies! Your job is not to contradict me, your job is to nurse that kitten!" He struck her across the face, before storming out of the warehouse, his oldest son following closely.


	17. The Traitor

__

AN: If anyone's a die-hard Bustopher Jones fan (I'm sure there's at least one somewhere out there, and with my luck they'll read this), they may not want to read this chapter… Let's just say that the Cat About Town has a few screws loose… This also gets reasonably violent and contains some language, so note the PG-13 warning.

As for Juana's pregnancy, I thought that it was made so bluntly obvious that only a tom couldn't figure it out… .

"Jellicle cats, come out tonight!

Jellicle cats, come one, come all!

The Heaviside moon is shining bright!

Jellicles come to the Spirit's Ball!"

With his last line, Mistoffelees sent a fountain of golden sparks into the air, the exact colour of the round harvest moon, or as the Jellicles called it, the Heaviside moon. His fellow tribe members applauded, and the tuxedo blushed through his white face fur and took a bow.

Munkustrap had to grin at how wide Deuteronomy's eyes were when he say the sparks, but he inwardly sighed when he saw Admetus and Savon approach with a grim expressions. He shooed the kitten off, and he bounded away to wrestle with Gus. The tabby then turned his attention to the two toms.

"We've got trouble," Admetus hissed. "With a capital T, and that rhymes with B, and that stands for Bustopher Jones."

"Jellylorum made you take Gus to the theatre again, huh? Was The Music Man good?"

"Harold Hill was okay, but Marian's voice was too flat and the Mayor's Wife's singing reminded me of bagpipes going through a wood chipper. You should have heard what Grandfather had to say about it."

"I can only imagine. What about Bustopher Jones?"

"He just came through the west entrance. We can't very well tell him he can't come to the Ball, he is a Jellicle, after all."

"He means no good," added Savon, his ears flat and his eyes narrowed. If he had a tail, it probably would have been twitching and jerking like a dying mouse.

"No doubt about that," Munkustrap muttered. "I should go see the twins. Maybe they know something."

The Manx shook his head. "Already have, and all they said is 'What is to pass will come to pass'. Some psychics, a fortune cookie could tell you more than that."

"Everlasting Cat," muttered the tabby. "I guess I'll just have to keep Deuteronomy close so that he doesn't…"

There was a loud crash of metal.

"… get into any trouble," he finished wearily, spinning to face the noise. "What now?"

Gus scrambled out of the heap of scrap metal that had collapsed. "We didn't mean to do it! Either me or Deuteronomy must have rolled into a loose piece, and…"

Jellylorum grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and carried him away from the junk. She set him down and inspected his cuts. "Nothing major, luckily. Now, that cut will need some cleaning, and…"

"Um, guys?" the Rum Tum Tugger interrupted. "Deuteronomy didn't come out."

Munkustrap's eyes widened. "Oh Everlasting Cat. We've got to get him out of there!"

"Could he have…" Plato started, not wanting to finished. "I mean, even with his magic…"

"I'm going under there," the silver tabby said, diving for the pile but being yanked back as Skimbleshanks grabbed his tail in his teeth.

"Don't be an idiot!" Asparagus Jr. barked. "You'll get yourself killed! We need to remove all the metal first, and…"

"There's no time!" he cried, exasperated. "He'll be crushed!"

"Who'll be crushed?" asked a voice from behind the tire throne.

Every Jellicle present looked towards the sound. Munkustrap didn't dare believe his ears.

The small kitten scrambled up onto the tire. His tail was sparkling with green light. "Who'll be crushed? Gus wasn't trapped, was he?"

"You… You're…" Munkustrap stammered. "Where were you?"

"Behind the tire. There's a fair bit of space back there. When all that metal collapsed, I ran behind there to get out of the way. Something hit me in the tail, but…" He nodded at the light, then shook his coat out. The sparks flew off as easily as water. "Gus is okay, right?"

"Just fine," the brown and white kitten replied from under the paw of his mother (and daughter-in-law). "Glad you're alright."

"And exactly what happened here?"

"An accident," Munkustrap said calmly, facing Bustopher Jones. "Old Deuteronomy and Asparagus knocked over some unstable scrap metal. Thankfully, no one was hurt."

"How careless of them," he said, a cross between a smile and a sneer on his face as he slowly walked towards the tabby. "One would think that the Jellicle leader and a famed thespian would know better."

Gus gave a hiss and tried to jump forward, but Jellylorum held him back. Bustopher barely spared him a glance. Deuteronomy moved closer to Munkustrap, his eyes not exactly fearful, but wide and wary.

The tabby broke eye contact with Bustopher Jones to looked at the Rum Tum Tugger. "You said you had a good story for this year. So let's hear it."

The tom grinned evilly. "I never thought you'd ask, Munkus. The faint of spirit and those at risk of a heart attack and/or stroke…" He gave a meaningful glace towards the fat tuxedo. "…may want to leave now."

The cats settled in different spots, the younger queens, Jemima among them despite Mistoffelees's disappointment, were crowded around the Tugger on the tire. Skimbleshanks was curled up with Jennyanydots and Rumpelteazer on the hood of the old Ford. Mungojerrie and Juana were perched above them, on the ledge.

Savon was slinking through a pile to get to the place where Demeter was sitting alone, when he felt like someone watching him. He turned to see a face he never wanted to see again.

"So, you're a Manx," smirked Bustopher Jones.

He felt his face flush under his light fur. "What's it to you?"

"You know what they say, a cat's soul is in his tail. No tail, no soul."

"I don't believe in that."

"You should. Deuteronomy didn't, and _nearly_ his entire family was killed. Soulless cats shouldn't live."

"You're a monster. You know that, don't you?"

"Fine talk from a soulless demon cat."

"Listen, and listen good," he hissed, lowering his shoulders and tensing his muscles. "If you so much _talk_ threateningly to Old Deuteronomy tonight, I will personally rip out your throat."

"Fierce kitty, aren't we?"

"Go away."

To Savon's surprise and relief, he did. Bustopher Jones went to go sit on a semi-clean mat Jellylorum had set out for him, a safe distance away from where Munkustrap and Deuteronomy were sitting beside the tire.

Although his mind was far less than settled, the Manx jumped up to where Demeter was, and settled in for the story.

"A long while ago, right here in the British Isles," the Rum Tum Tugger began, one of the red light behind him giving his mane and face a demonic appearance. "There was a handsome, but very miserly man."

"What does miserly mean?" interrupted Etcetera.

"It means he was cheap. And keep quiet, you're ruining the atmosphere."

"Sorry."

"He traveled all over, looking for a bride. It didn't matter to him what she looked like, or how she acted. As long as she was very, very rich. He finally found what might have been the most beautiful, kind female in the world…"

"Couldn't have been," Mungojerrie whispered to Juana. "Cause she's sitting right here next to me."

The queen purred, nuzzling her mate. "Jerrie… I've got something to tell you…"

"She had long, raven hair and clear, blue eyes. She was kind to animals and people alike, and she never raised her voice in anger. Bu the man didn't care about all of this. He didn't even care that she had been born without her left arm. He only cared that her father was very rich, so rich that he had had a golden arm made for his daughter to replace her missing one."

"Think she's told him?" Jennyanydots asked softly to Skimbleshanks.

"Told him what?" he replied, confused.

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed."

"Haven't noticed what?"

"He seduced the woman and finally married her. But once they were wed, he became the selfish, greedy man he was. He made his wife live in a little rundown shack on the outskirts of town, denied her proper food, and made her do gruelling, meaningless chores.

"She grew weaker and weaker by the day. One day she grew so sick that she just…"

"Jerrie," Juana whispered into his ear. "I'm pregnant."

"… dropped dead."

There was a thump as Mungojerrie fell from the ledge to the pile of cushions the cats had arranged there to sit on, thankfully not landing on anyone.

"She told him," smiled Jenny.

"Told him what?"

"She's with kittens."

"_What!?_"

The Rum Tum Tugger blinked. "Um, someone want to check to see if he's still alive?"

Rumpelteazer sighed, jumping down off of the Ford and dragging her twin out of the way and behind a junk pile where his mate was waiting.

"Thanks. Anyway, the wife died. But before she did, she told her husband that she wanted to be buried in her wedding dress with her golden arm beside her.

"So she was buried, and her husband went to her funeral and cried and comforted her parents. But at midnight, he snuck back to the graveyard. He dug up her coffin, stole the arm, buried her again, and ran home. He put the arm under the pillow, and fell asleep to dream of all the things he could buy with the money he'd earn from selling the arm."

Munkustrap felt Deuteronomy huddle closer to him and felt his shake as a shiver passed through his small body.

"He awoke in not even an hour to footsteps in the hall. He heard a weak, ghostly voice moan _…Where is my golden arm…?_ The man was frightened, and pulled his covers up further. But he convinced himself that his mind was playing tricks on him, and went back to sleep.

"Several minutes later, he heard it again. _Where is my golden arm?_ This time the voice was stronger, and sounded like it was right outside his bedroom door. He pulled the covers up over his head and told himself it was nothing, but couldn't get back to sleep. Then the voice came from right beside his bed, demanding _Where is my golden arm?!_." The tom lowered his voice to a whisper and dropped his head. "And the man slowly peeled the covers away from his face, and heard…"

All of the queens leaned closer to hear him.

The Tugger's head shot up. "_YOU'VE GOT IT!!_"

Everyone jumped. Etcetera screamed as well as jumped, and landed on the Rum Tum Tugger, causing the entire tribe to laugh.

Suddenly there was a huge smash.

"Macavity!" screamed Demeter.

"Don't be so…" started Bombalurina.

"Paranoid?" finished a chilling voice. The Hidden Paw was perched on a high ledge, above all of the other cats. "Greetings, Jellicles. Enjoying your Spirit's Ball?"

Munkustrap gave a hiss, and nodded at the other toms. They began to advance on him, but the ginger cat held up a paw.

"No need for that, now. I thought we were good friends."

The younger queens had scrambled away from the tire to hide, but Deuteronomy climbed up on it. It gave him comfort, although he couldn't explain why. Bustopher Jones was edging closer to the kitten, though no one noticed.

"Hmm, so much for a friendly greeting," Macavity grinned. "I just thought that I'd let you know that there's a traitor in your midst."

The fat tuxedo looked up, shocked. What was he doing?!

"A betrayer," he continued. "A turncoat in your junkyard. A Judas among your disciples. A villain who asked me to come here tonight, disrupt your ball, and murder the kitten he believes is imposing Old Deuteronomy. And this villain is none other than Bustopher Jones." Macavity gave a pause for effect. "Well, having said that, I wish you a pleasant evening." There was a small explosion, and he was gone.

The toms turned to face the tuxedo, who was backing up towards the tire.

"Now, now," he said, a fake grin spreading across his face. "Surely you don't take Macavity's word over my own! Me, a respected Jellicle!"

"No, we believe our eyes and our ears," the Rum Tum Tugger growled. "You've had it in for Deuteronomy since he was reborn!"

Bustopher's eyes darkened. "He was never reborn! He is a fake!"

Munkustrap gave a long and low hiss, advancing forward. And it was then that the tuxedo made his move.

Before anyone knew what was happening, Bustopher Jones's paw flew out, catching Deuteronomy in the throat. He dragged it down, spilling blood onto both of them. He withdrew, and the tiny kitten slumped onto the tire. Bustopher struck again, this time cutting the motionless kit in the side. He prepared himself for another blow, but only managed to sink a single claw into his hind right leg before Munkustrap threw himself at the older tom, pinning him to the ground.

"You bastard," the tabby hissed, pressing his paw against the tuxedo's throat. "You bastard! He was the Jellicle leader! He was a kitten!"

"What are you going to do?" Bustopher Jones croaked, his eyes widening in selfish fear.

The Protector looked back towards the tire. The tiny blood-stained body lay there, perfectly still. His stomach churned with disgust as he turned back to his hostage. "I'm going to kill you. And I'm going to enjoy it. Old Deuteronomy told me never to enjoy violence, but in this case I think he'll forgive me."

He became frantic for his life. "Please, Munkustrap, let's not be hasty. Excuse me, Old Munkustrap. That title is now yours, I suppose."

The silver tabby had had enough. He raised his paw, intending to kill the murderer, but a voice stopped him.

"Munkustrap!" shouted Jennyanydots. "He's alive!"

He quickly spun around, not trusting his ears. "What?"

"He's hurt very badly, but he's not dead," the Gumbie Cat said, gently placing a paw under her father's head and raising it slightly. "He needs a vet, I can't do anything about wounds like this. And his healing powers… They're not working. They're unreliable. He needs help."

The tabby stepped off of Bustopher Jones, and slowly approached the tire as Jenny backed away. As he came closer, Deuteronomy's deep brown eyes opened a bit.

"Munk?" he asked slowly, the signal syllable obviously an effort for him.

He swallowed hard and gently laid his paw on the kitten's forehead. "I'm right here, Deuteronomy."

"It hurts… It's getting dark, Munk," he whimpered, fear thick in his voice. "Everything's going dark. I'm scared, Munk."

"Please hold on, Deuteronomy," Munkustrap begged. "Please!"

"Everything's going dark," he repeated, his eyes closing so that they were nearly shut.

"I'm going to do everything I can to bring you back to the light," he whispered into his ear. "I promise."

"Munk…" was all Deuteronomy could manage before closing his eyes completely.

The tabby checked his breathing. He was still alive, but barely. His chest moved in small, slow bursts, and blood still poured form his throat and side. He was hanging on by a thread.

It was at that point Bustopher Jones decided to take advantage of the fact that he was no longer in the spotlight and sneak away. Rumpelteazer, Mungojerrie, and Savon tackled him, easily holding him down.

"We really should kill him, Munkustrap," growled the leader's grandson. "Scum like this doesn't deserve to live."

"Hold him here, we'll figure out what to do with him once Old Deuteronomy is stable," the Protector said, scowling at the tuxedo.

"There's a clinic pretty close to here," said Rumpelteazer, who was nearly in tears, a way Munkustrap had never seen her before. "Down the street, take a right, five lots down on the left. The vet lives in a flat above it, so she'll probably wake up if you howl loud enough."

The tabby nodded his thanks quickly. "I can't carry him in my mouth, somebody get a sheet or something."

Someone, in his distress Munkustrap couldn't tell just who, quickly returned with a somewhat clean white sheet. Jennyanydots and Jellylorum quickly folded it up, and Munkustrap picked Deuteronomy up as carefully as he could and put him in the middle of it before bundling him up. Without a word, he grabbed the sheet in his teeth and took off.

Mistoffelees placed a single claw on Bustopher Jones's forehead, and with an apologetic look to his uncle, sent a blue spark shooting down it. It knocked him out instantly. The thieving twins and Savon, with the help of Admetus and Alonzo, dragged him off to lock him somewhere where he couldn't escape.

The Rum Tum Tugger felt a pull on his tail and looked behind his shoulder.

It was Etcetera. "Is Old Deuteronomy going to die?" she asked quietly.

The large tom shook his head. "I don't know, kit, but I sure hope not."


	18. The Wounds

Amber Tom woke up in the middle of the night, and realized that she had left her dental retainer downstairs in the office. She had two choices. She could go back to sleep and forget about it, or she could go up and get it.

On one hand, it was cold and her bed was warm. On the other hand, her mother had spent all that money on orthodontic work… Plus the fact that if her teeth rearranged back, she'd have to have the braces put back on. Two more years of being called brace face, metal mouth, and other such names that annoyed her to no end.

Yawning, the redhead threw on a housecoat, slid her feet into a pair of slippers and padded down out of her and her mother's upstairs flat into the veterinary office below.

She had found her retainer in its case on the office desk and was about to go back upstairs when she heard a loud yowling, followed by frantic scratching on the door. Amber frowned, cautiously unlocking the door and opening it a crack.

Something silver and red bolted through, nearly tripping her. On further inspection, she saw it was a tabby carrying a red bundle in its mouth. She had _never_ seen a cat do that before. At least not by its own free will. Amber didn't have much more time to ponder, however, because the desperate tom sunk his claws into her leg.

"Ow! Damn it!" she cursed, jumping away from the feline. "Son of a… What is your problem, you psycho cat!"

The tabby thrust the bundle towards her and she bent to grab it, peeling the fabric back…

What she saw nearly made her sick. It was a kitten, and its fur was red. Not a natural ginger, bright red. It was covered with blood. The sheet was soaked in it as well. The tiny thing's chest was rapidly moving up and down, and its tiny form was limp in her arms.

"Oh God…" she whispered. "Mum! Mum! Get down here! Now!"

After several precious minutes, the vet emerged from the staircase. "Amber, have you lost your mind? Do you have any idea what time it is?"

Her daughter simply displayed the kitten, and the woman's face paled.

"Good lord. Get him into the examination room. I'll need your help, Amber."

The two humans rushed into a back room, the door swinging shut behind them and trapping Munkustrap out. He knew that he could yowl until they let him in, but that would mean seconds that could save Deuteronomy's life. So instead, he curled up on a stiff plastic chair in the waiting room and tried not to picture the kit's bloody form.

__

Cold. It was cold. He batted aimlessly, trying to hit whatever force was hitting his skin and soaking his fur and making him cold. He was hungry as well… Sharp pain shot through his stomach and made him feel sick. Whenever he had been hungry before, he had cried out, and then Father had shouted at Not Momma, and then he had received warm, sweet milk.

But Father had been gone for… The tiny kitten had little sense of time, but he had been gone for a long while. Not Momma had been gone for not as long, but long enough to make even him realize that she wasn't coming back.

Suddenly, he heard a voice. A tom's voice. But not like Father's or Brother's… Not harsh and angry. Kind and caring. Gentle.

"What on earth are you doing out here in the rain, little one?" it inquired.

The tiny kitten gave a pitiful mew and tried to raise his head but found he was too weak. He felt warm, soft fur touch his face as the voice nuzzled him.

"Don't worry, kit. I'll take you to my human's house. You'll be warm there, and I'll make sure you get some hot food."

He felt himself be lifted by the neck. Gently and carefully, not roughly and carelessly like he was used to. After some time, he fell asleep to the steady beat of his rescuer's paws on the ground.

"Good God, what a mess," Dr. Tom stated. "Where to begin… Amber, try to stop the bleeding around his neck while I get some disinfectant and get on a pair of gloves."

The teenager grabbed some medical padding, and pressed it against the kit's neck, half afraid that she would break him. He seemed to fragile, laying there. Small patches of grey were unstained, and his paws were twitching slightly, as was his tail.

"You know, he looks familiar…" she mused aloud. "Like… like that cat who bit me! It looks almost exactly like him!"

"The one with the quiet girl for an owner?" her mother asked, dousing a cotton ball with a clear liquid and dabbing at some of the deeper cuts. "Look at these slashes… It was either a small dog or racoon, or one big cat."

"Yeah, the freaky girl…" Amber muttered. "Weird, but cute in a way…"

The vet looked up sharply. "What did you just say?"

She studied the kitten intently. "Yeah, there's been something I've been meaning to tell you…"

Dr. Tom held up her hand. "Sorry to stop you, but this is neither the time nor the place." She worked the buckle on the kitten's collar undone, and wiped the blood off of the tag. "Alexander… I'm pretty sure he's one of my patients. There's a number here. Go out into the office and call up this little guy's owner. It's late, but I don't think they'll mind."

__

"Uh… Father… Cold… No!"

"Munkustrap? Munkustrap, wake up!"

His bright blue eyes shot open to see the comforting face of Old Deuteronomy. He immediately leapt forward and buried his face into the older tom's thick fur.

The leader nuzzled him comfortingly. "It was only a dream, Munkustrap. You're safe here, your father can't get you."

"He was chasing me," he murmured, hot tears flowing freely. "It was raining…. He… He killed you… I hate him so much. I don't even know him and I hate him…" He wiped at his face with a paw. "… You must think I'm a newborn, crying…"

"I don't think that, Munkustrap, not at all. I often have nightmares myself."

"I bet you don't cry."

Old Deuteronomy smiled sadly at him. "When I first started getting them, I did. But I had to do it when no one else was around."

"Why?"

"Because the Jellicle leader's not suppose to cry, Munkustrap."

"Not even when you're hurt?"

He shook his head. "Nope, not even then. Other cats might think I'm weak if I cry in front of them."

"Does it make you weak to cry?"

"Not at all, Munkustrap." He paused, before adding "Sometimes it takes a stronger leader to cry rather than to hold it all in."

Munkustrap's head shot up, and he suddenly realized that the fur around his face was wet. He blushed a bit, and instinctively checked to make sure no one was around. He sat up and began to groom himself. The door of the office creaked open, and the girl emerged.

Amber took it, and rushed out to the desk. She flicked on a light, grabbed the phone, and punched in the number. She grimaced slightly when she realized that everything she touched was being smeared with red.

"Hello?" asked a groggy voice on the other end.

"Hi! Um, this is the veterinarian clinic. Dr. Tom's. I'm her daughter."

"What are you doing calling at this hour?"

"Well, we're not exactly sure what happened, but… your cat was attacked and he was hurt pretty badly. Me and my mum are doing what we can, but…"

"Attacked?" The voice was suddenly awake. "By what? Oh, never mind. Which cat? What does he look like?"

"A grey tom kitten, the name on the collar is Alexander."

"But Theodore never lets him out of his sight…"

Amber looked at the grown tom staring at her from a chair. "Is Theodore a silver tabby, by any chance?"

"Yes! How did you…"

"Well he's here, too. Doesn't look like he's hurt though."

"I'll be down as soon as I can." There was a click, then the annoying, droning tone that followed.

The girl replaced the phone, and turned to face the cat who was obviously named Theodore. "Don't stare at me like that, you're creeping me out."

He continued to look at her with his blue eyes.

She shuddered, and went back into the examination room.

While her daughter had been on the phone, Dr. Tom had been doing her best to stop the bleeding. It seemed to be in vain, however, because no matter how tightly she compressed the padding, it was soaked with blood soon enough. She honestly didn't think a kitten that size could have that much blood.

She shook her head sadly, and turned to grab some more bandages. She found none. She dropped to her knees to rummage through a lower cabinet. If she had turned around, she would have seen the tiny kit's entire form enfolded in green sparks that made the fur on his throat, the most wounded place, stand on end, and then see the sparks melt into the table. When she rose, however, the grey kitten was still panting and still covered in blood.

Amber hurried back into the room, this time remembering to pull on a pair of medical gloves. She, unlike her mother, didn't do such things automatically. "How is he?"

"Worse, if anything," she sighed, striding over to the other side to fetch some peroxide. "Try to press down on that wound on his hind right."

The girl nodded, separating the fur to get at it. Once she saw it, however, her face twisted into a mask of confusion. "What… How… It's but a flesh wound!"

"Amber, this is no time to be quoting Monty Python!"

"I didn't… Oh, right… But look at this! This was a gaping hole when I left, and now it's barely more than a nick!"

Dr. Tom ran her hand through the fur, frowning. "Maybe it's just that cut wasn't all that deep…"

"But blood was pouring out of it! It's all over him! You saw it!"

"It could be like a paper cut. It bleeds a lot and hurts like hell, but it's not that serious."

"Mum, he was hyperventilating a few minutes ago. The wound on his neck was spurting blood. And now… It's barely deep enough to justify a bandage now. Something's not right about this, something's not right at all."

"Don't be so paranoid. Whatever attacked him must have just broken open a lot of blood cells without doing much damage to anything else."

"_That's_ the best you can come up with!"

"That's the only thing I can come up with, Amber. How else could you explain it? Magic, perhaps?"

The girl was silent.

"I hear someone out in the waiting room, I'll bet it's little Alexander's owner. Put a bandage on that throat wound, and try to clean him up a bit. I don't want that owner fainting or getting sick."

She nodded as her mother walked out, and swiftly secured a cotton pad onto the kitten's deepest cut. Once she had dabbed away all she could of the blood with a wet cloth, she inspected his hind right leg again. There was a familiar scar there, one she knew but just couldn't place…

__

Everything was spinning. The world was spinning one way, and his head was spinning the opposite way. Nothing seemed real. The only thing that tied him to the ground was the pain. The pain was intense.

He blearily tried to opened his eyes, with little avail. Someone… Something… was singing. Not extremely well, either.

"The sirens are screaming and the fires are howling

Way down in the valley tonight

There's a man in the shadows with a gun in his eye

And a blade shining oh so bright."

There was music in the background… If one could call it music. The only thing he could think it resembled was the Rum Tum Tugger's song. Only this was… stranger. Wilder, if at all possible.

"There's evil in the air and there's thunder in the sky

And a killer's on the bloodshot streets

Oh, and down in the tunnels where the deadly are rising

I swear I saw a young boy, down in the gutter

He was starting to foam in the heat."

The old cat's eyes flickered open, and he saw a redheaded girl tidying up a cabinet across the room. He was in a cage… The pound? No… The operation… He was in the clinic… This girl resembled the vet… Her daughter?

"Oh baby, you're the only thing in this whole world

That's pure and good and right

And wherever you are and wherever you go

There's always going to be some light

But I gotta get out, I gotta…"

She turned around, and stopped singing. "Oh, you're awake, are you?" She walked towards him, spinning the radio dial higher as she passed. "I thought you'd never get up."

Old Deuteronomy flattened his ears against his skull and thrashed his tail and hissed in warning. He was still dizzy from whatever they had given him, and his leg was throbbing. He didn't want that strange human anywhere near him.

Ignoring the cat's warnings, the girl flipped the catch on his cage, gathering him into her arms and petting his fur, going against the grain. "What's wrong with you? Your leg hurting?"

He whipped his head around and sunk his teeth into the skin between her thumb and her index finger, and couldn't help but grin slightly at the loud yelp that followed…

The kitten slowly opened his eyes, blinking them at the bright light. There was a lot of white… All around him… Where was he…? Where was Munk… ? Was he dead…? Was this the Heaviside Layer…? A million questions buzzed in his mind.

Deuteronomy's vision was still a bit blurry, and his body still ached, but he could hear a voice.

"Hey, you're awake!"

A familiar voice. A voice that made him bare his teeth a bit, although he didn't know why. He just had a feeling that he didn't like whoever that voice belonged to.

"Poor little guy, you must be feeling miserable…"

He felt a hand go down to pet him, covering his eyes and blocking the light. He bit it, and heard a yelp that seemed equally familiar, along with some words Munk had told him before never to repeat. Feeling satisfied and tired, he allowed himself to drift back to sleep.

__

Used lyrics are from the song "Bat Out of Hell" by Meat Loaf. I wish I owned them, but I don't.


	19. The Eyes

Munkustrap caught himself looking at the tiny kitten for what must have been the fiftieth time in the past minute. The female human had brought him home and settled him in his bed, although the moment she left the tabby had gently transferred him to his own, more comfortable basket. Since then, he had been doing nothing but pacing.

But he hadn't woken up yet. Not even stirred. Nor were his paws or tail twitching, as they usually did as he dreamed. The only reassurance Munkustrap had that he wasn't dead was the steady movement of his chest.

Jellicles had stopped by in groups since the sun had come up. Most had come to pay their condolences and acknowledge the new leader, and had been thoroughly shocked to find that Old Deuteronomy had survived. One cat he hadn't seen yet, and had expected to see, was Rumpelteazer. Jennyanydots hadn't been there either, but Skimbleshanks had swung by to vouch for her. Cassandra had begun to deliver, and she and Jellylorum were needed.

"Munkustrap?"

The voice made his jump, and he spun to face the calico-patterned queen. "Rumpelteazer."

"I heard Granddad made it."

The silver tabby nodded. "Thank the Everlasting Cat."

She slowly walked over to the basket, her green eyes glued on the kit. "How is he?"

"Honestly, I have no idea. He's breathing, and his wounds aren't even deep anymore, his magic I suppose. But he hasn't so much as twitched a whisker since he came out of the clinic, and I've been up all night."

Rumpelteazer studied his tired face. "I believe that. You know about Cassandra?"

"Your father stopped in, but that was while she was still in labour. How is she?"

"Perfectly fine. She birthed two healthy kittens, a queen and a tom, in that order."

"What do they look like?"

"The tom looks like his Aunt Exotica, almost all that sleek brown colour. Except for that funny little black patch over his eye, like his father's. The queen's the spitting image of Alonzo aside from the gender, though from what Mum's said about her, the personality probably won't match his. The little bugger sunk her claws into Jelly's nose when she tried to pick her up."

Munkustrap managed a weary laugh. "I'll have to go there later and name them, I suppose." He looked back towards the kitten. "I'll have to get someone to stay with him, I'm not letting him out of that basket for quite a while."

"I'll stay with him," offered the queen. "It's the least I can do."

"Bustopher Jones… What happened with him?"

"Escaped," she sighed, giving a small shrug. "Don't ask me how because I don't know. The windows in the old car we stashed him in where rolled down maybe a centimetre, if that, but I'll bite off my own tail and eat it as well if he could squeeze through that, the tub of lard."

"So he's loose in London?" the tabby questioned, suddenly feeling a tad queasy.

"We've got everyone on the alert for him. And by everyone, I don't just mean Jellicles. Dad told the Finmar tribe down by the railway and the Kinka tribe, Granddad's always had friends there, the Peri and the Lerom tribes have been warned, Admetus and Exotica headed uptown this morning, and Plato tipped off a couple of his pals in the Armondert tribe."

"Never heard of them…"

"You must know them. Headquarters are under that bridge off the Old Hyde Road…"

"The one whose leader is that huge rust-coloured tabby mix called Artin? Since when has Plato had friends there?"

"Since he pulled an Armondert kitten out of a tree last spring. Victoria even let the cats on Saint James's Street know what he did, so may the Everlasting Cat help him if he puts so much as one paw into one of his clubs looking for help. Oh, and Asparagus went to the Yaltas."

"The… Is he crazy?"

"They were glad to help. Sent out a search party for him, and swore up and down that if they found him they'd be sure to bring him back alive, although… Oh, what was Haskin's exact words… That he wouldn't be the pretty tom he used to be once they caught up with him."

"Same goes if he comes within five miles of me," Munkustrap nodded, his appreciation for the Yaltas growing a bit.

"And some of the smaller tribes and the stray groups volunteered to keep an eye and an ear open and report if they knew anything. Everyone was more than happy to help. My grandfather's done a lot of work in his lives, and he's got friends in both high and low places. I sure as the Lyghtside Layer wouldn't want to be Bustopher Jones right now, not with most of the cats in London ready to claw the stuffing out of him soon as look at him."

"Who organized all this?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Surely everyone just didn't go out on their own to all the tribes. Who organized them?"

"Well… With you gone, and Alonzo and Mum busy with the new kittens… I guess I probably herded everybody up and gave out some orders…"

This caught him off guard. "You! Really?"

"Don't act so surprised," she said, blushing slightly under her striped fur. "'S in my blood, I suppose. Besides, if you can do it, how hard can it be? All you've got to do is point a bit and throw a threat in where needed."

Munkustrap sighed. "And why don't you have a mate yet?"

"Because I'm too independent."

"Ah."

Rumpelteazer cast her gaze around the room, and it finally came to rest on Old Deuteronomy, although when she spoke her voice was light and amused. "Mum pitched a fit this morning. Too bad you missed it, it was some show."

"Over what?" he questioned.

"Mungojerrie wants to move out of Victoria Grove and into Juana's den at the Junkyard. I can see that he wants to be with his mate, but I'm not too pleased about it myself… I mean, we've always been together, the notorious couple of cats. And now…" She shook her head.

"I wouldn't know what it's like. I was found on the side of the street. I have no family, save for Old Deuteronomy who took me in when no one else wanted me."

Rumpelteazer studied his face carefully. "Do you ever wonder who your parents were? Or why they left you?"

He began to answer, but paused when he heard a dry coughing and hacking. Munkustrap rushed over to the basket, crouching beside the kitten.

Deuteronomy slowly opened his eyes, and saw a set of very familiar blue eyes. One name escaped from his lips in both a hateful and frightened voice.

"Cronus!"

He scampered to the back of the basket, his tiny form quivering. Rumpelteazer rushed forward, nuzzling and licking him to calm him. Munkustrap just stood there, half in shock. Why had he said that name?

Having regained some of his breath, the kitten looked up towards the tabby. "Munk… I… I thought I was dead there for a minute..."

"We all did," admitted Rumpelteazer, butting him playfully with her head. "Everyone's been worried sick about you, Granddad. Especially me and Munkustrap."

Deuteronomy was silent, before asking "Who are Luna and Raphael?"

"I don't know," Munkustrap admitted. "Where did you hear those names?"

"I had a dream… There was this big silver tom, kind of like you, Munk, only his eyes weren't blue and he didn't have stripes. And his fur was darker, more like the light parts of mine. He told me that Luna and Raphael would soon come to the junkyard."

"I think you've got the names for Cassie's kittens right there," the calico-pattern queen grinned. "Although I can't imagine who that tom is."

__

Orion… the tabby thought sadly. Aloud, he said "Did he tell you the name Cronus as well?"

The kit shook his head. "No… I don't know why I said that…"

Munkustrap gave a deep sigh, and nuzzled him gently. "I'm going to go to the Junkyard and name Cassandra's litter."

"Can I come?"

"Absolutely not. You've been through a major healing. You need to rest. Rumpelteazer is going to stay here with you. And don't let him out of bed, you here me?"

The queen nodded. "Loud and clear, chief."

He bounded up the stairs and out the cat door.

"I will name the queen Luna, and the tom Raphael."

"Excellent names," the Siamese nodded, nuzzling the two newborns gently.

Munkustrap padded out of the den, but was stopped by Jennyanydots.

"You've got something on your mind," she said in a hushed tone. "And I want to know what it is."

He lowered his head a bit. "It's nothing, Jenny. Nothing."

"My tail it is. What is wrong with you, Munkustrap? You can trust me."

"It's just that… When Deuteronomy woke up, he took one look at me and shouted out a name." He paused for a moment. "That name was Cronus."

The Gumbie cat was silent. "You didn't tell him what happened, did you? Because if you did…"

"Of course I didn't tell him!" Munkustrap snapped. "Do you think I'm an idiot? I'm the Jellicle Protector, queen, not an ignorant stray."

Without hesitation, Jennyanydots smacked him across the face with a swift paw.

"Ow! What was that for!"

"You'll not talk to me or anyone else in that tone, young tom. Old Deuteronomy raised you better than that, so smarten up."

He rubbed his cheek tenderly. "You're right, of course. I'm really sorry, Jenny, I'm just upset."

"Apology accepted," she nodded. "Now, why in Heaviside would my father mistake you for Cronus?"

"How should…" He stopped, wisely choosing to rephrase what he had been about to say. "I'm not sure. I can't see any reason why he should. Unless… Do I look like him?"

"I didn't see him, Munkustrap, you'll have to talk to someone who has. There are only two living Jellicles who could give you a good description of him, and one's lost his memory."

"Asparagus?"

"None other."

"Do you know where I can find him?"

"His and Jellylorum's Junkyard den is the old oven. I think he's there now."

The silver tabby nodded. "Thank you, Jennyanydots. I should head over there now. And sorry I got angry."

"Sorry you made me have to hit you," the queen replied, giving him a mischievous smile that reminded him all too much of her daughter.

"Mum, I'm telling you, _it was the same cat_!"

"Amber, would you give it a rest already? That cat had terminal cancer. He must have been over twenty years old. He was most certainly not a tiny little kitten!"

"I know! But…" She grouped for something that didn't sound stupid. "Look, I'll be honest. I can't explain it, but that kitten and the old cat who bit me were one and the same! I've been thinking about it all last night and all today, and the more I think about it, the more I'm sure that I'm right!"

"Oh, and I suppose you were thinking about it during last week's English test as well?"

"I only saw him last night, how could I be thinking about him last week?"

"Something other than Ibsen's Enemy of the People must have been on your mind, your mark was certainly low enough."

Amber groaned. "Not that again… Look, I'm just not good at English!"

"Or at math, or science, or history…"

"What do you want from me!"

"Better grades, obviously."

She gave an exasperated sigh. "I know this sounds crazy…"

"You have no idea," the vet sighed wearily.

"… but I know this is the same cat! He had a scar on his hind right leg exactly where the old cat's surgical cut was. And just look at this!" She pulled back the sleeve of her sweatshirt and spread her fingers. The flesh between her thumb and index finger was bandaged, but she pulled it back to reveal the two old, scarred punctures and the two she had received last night.

Dr. Tom raised an eyebrow. "Your point being…"

"They're in the same place! Well, not exactly. I mean, how could they be? But they're exactly in line! If that cat's mouth had have been as big as it was the first time he bit me, he would have gotten in the same spot. You can't say that's a coincidence!"

"No, but I can say it's carelessness. You leave that part of your hand vulnerable when you reach down. Cats are smart and vengeful creatures, they know where they can make you hurt the most. As for it being in line, that kitten is about the same breed as the old cat, they probably had similar teeth patterns."

"But…!"

"But nothing. Either give it up, or get out of the office. I can't stand this any more than I can stand your singing. Now beat it."

Grumbling to herself, she stalked off to go sulk in her room.

"Rumpelteazer? May we come in?"

The queen looked up to see Coricopat and Tantomile on the stairs. "Yeah, sure. I finally got him to go to sleep, though, so try not to wake him."

The pair descended, and upon closer inspection, it looked like neither had slept in a week.

"You two don't look so hot. Are you sick or something?"

Coricopat shook his head. "We gave a lot of our energy to Old Deuteronomy last night. His powers aren't developed enough yet to heal wounds like that, so we gave him a boost where needed."

This stunned her a bit. "Wow… Well, thanks. Thanks a lot. From everyone in the tribe."

"Just serving our leader," Tantomile said, both bowing their heads slightly. "It's what magical cats are meant to do. Besides, we're rather fond of him, as a kitten as well as a leader. We could never let him die, even if he was not Old Deuteronomy."

Teazer smiled, blinking her glass green eyes. "You two are alright."

"We try to be," they said in unison.

"Asparagus? Asparagus? Are you in?"

The brownish tom stuck his head out of the old oven. "Munkustrap! Now what on earth could the Jellicle Protector want with me? Please tell me you're not upset that I went to the Yaltas."

The tabby shook his head. "No, it's not about that. Actually, I suppose I should thank you for that. I need to know about something. About… Cronus."

His fur bristled noticeably at the very name. "What could you possibly want to know about that tom, Protector? He's dead and gone and I say good riddance. I assume you know what he did?"

Munkustrap nodded. "Jennyanydots told me." _His brother_, he thought to himself. _His brother's mate, and his mate's parents._ "But it's important I know some things."

Asparagus nodded slowly. "I'll tell you what I know. Any specific questions you have?"

He bit his lip slightly. "Asparagus, I need an honest answer about this. Do I look like Cronus?"

The older tom studied him for an entire minute, looking more and more uncomfortable by the moment. Finally…

"Yes," he admitted grudgingly. "The eyes… Mainly the eyes… His, Cronus's… They were bright blue, like yours. But Munkustrap, that doesn't mean… It could be very distant…"

He didn't stay to hear more. He fled into the depths of the junkyard.

"Christine… Christine!"

The girl blinked as a hand came down hard on the top of the piano.

"Christine, that's the forth time you've played that measure! I don't know where your head is today, but you'd better get it back on the music in front of you! Now, Saint-Sean's The Turtle, from the beginning."

She began to play the piece again. It fit her mood, really. Slow, plodding. Emotionless… Christine didn't really know what was wrong with her. She felt so… empty. Not depressed, but not happy. Not angry, yet not at peace.

Her fingers found the notes easily, given so much time due to the slow beat of the song. She set her eyes dead on the sheet of music, and swore up and down that she wouldn't loose her focus again. But soon enough…

"Christine!"

"Sorry, Mrs. Green…"

"Start again! And stay focused!"

"Yes, Mrs. Green…"

She began to play the piece again…


	20. The Bloodline

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AN: Mwhaha! Evil writer's block has ended, and a plot is beginning to work itself out! Ah, and pretty much starting now, there will be a nifty little subplot featuring Christine and Amber written by -trumpet fanfare- Kel the Nightmare! -crickets chirping- She's been by beta forever, and she's also the author of Follow the Leader and When Victoria Reigned, which actually isn't half bad.

Pronunciation Guide: Tie is said the same way as 'to tie', and Kerl is pronounced the same as 'curl', only with more emphasis on the K.

"Teazer?"

"Hmm?"

"Why does Munkustrap worry all of the time?"

The queen had to think it over for a minute. "That's just the type of cat he is," she replied finally. "If he wasn't worrying about something, he'd go crazy. As for me, I can't stand worrying. Whatever happens, happens. No use wishing it was different because wishing alone won't get you there."

"Did _I _worry all of the time?"

"Not out loud. On the outside, you seemed so calm. Relaxed, laid back, at peace. But Mum says you were stressed out a lot, there was a lot of pressure on you. But you handled it somehow, I guess. Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering…" he said, an overly innocent undertone in his voice. "Jenny and Skimble, they both worry a lot, don't they?"

"Fuss would be a better word, really. Mum and Dad pay a lot of attention to detail, and they both get a bit snippy if something's not exactly right."

"So… could someone who worries a lot and someone who doesn't worry… could they, you know, get along as mates, say?

"Why do you ask?" Rumpelteazer questioned, narrowing her eyes. "You're not talking about Munkustrap and me, are you?"

"It's funny that you just said that all on your own…"

"Listen here, puffball. Munkustrap and I are just friends."

"But him and Tugger are friends, too," he protested. "And he spends a lot more time with you than he does with him."

"That's because the Rum Tum Tugger is an idiot."

"How come everyone always say that?"

"Because it's true."

"But just maybe, _maybe_, there's a chance you like him?" he asked, looking up at her. "'Cause sometimes when he's not looking you stare at him for a really long time and you get this funny look on your face and then you sigh and look away as soon as he moves his head."

Rumpelteazer looked around, as if checking for spies. "Okay, between you and me, Munkustrap's great. He's kind, he's responsible, and he's got beautiful eyes. But nothing's ever going to happen. Now go to sleep."

"That's what you think," Deuteronomy muttered with a smile, laying his head down and closing his eyes.

"What's that you just said?"

"Nothing…"

Munkustrap had thought that he and Asparagus had been alone. He had been mistaken. Unbeknown to both toms, a third male cat had been watching, his ginger body hidden behind an old refrigerator. And now he stalked through the junkyard, following the silver tabby.

Finally, the silver tom stumbled into a part of the junkyard where cats rarely went. There was an old car that looked like it would have made a good den, and plenty of space for playing and lounging.

Macavity looked around, and an evil smile crept over his face. Oh, this was all too perfect. He stepped out of the shadows.

"Hello, Munkustrap."

The tabby spun around, hissing with rage. "Old Deuteronomy lived, your plan failed."

"I knew he'd live from the start. Bustopher Jones hardly has the might to kill him. Besides, I want to feel his hot blood on my paws when I kill him."

"You…" Munkustrap couldn't think of a suitable word for the emotions he felt for this cat.

He looked around, as if remembering something fondly. "Ah yes, quite the coincidence that you ran to this place. Look over there, at that car." He pointed with a ginger paw. "Over there's where I killed them, you know. Orion first, he tackled me to protect his mother and sister. He put up quite a fight, I'll admit it willingly. I dragged him into the den to finish him off, so that his mother could see."

The silver tabby gave a strangled cry, not believing any cat could be so cruel.

"And then the little one, and how that queen begged me not to. To take her first. I made her watch as I cut her tiny little newborn into ribbons. Her, I had mercy on her. I slashed her throat quickly, I guess I am a bit of a softie for queens. Old Deuteronomy came soon enough, foolish old tom. I would have killed him right there, had Balitio not come near. I sensed him, and knew he could kill me with his cowardly magic. Funny, the tom who saved Old Deuteronomy's life, and his son the same thing, and his brother almost took it away…"

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't kill you now!"

"I'll give you two. Reason one, you couldn't. Reason two, it's not very nice to kill family."

Munkustrap's eyes widened. "F-family? You're no family of mine! I'm ashamed to share a species with you, Macavity, let alone a bloodline!"

"Think about it, Munkustrap. I know you know the truth. Did you know that Cronus had two kittens?"

"One died," the tabby said, shaking his head frantically. "One died, it wasn't weaned."

The larger tom smiled. "Actually, that's just a rumour Old Deuteronomy started, spread, and encouraged. For your sake. How could it have died, Munkustrap? You're standing right in front of me."

He backed away slowly. "No… No, you're lying…"

"You suspected it, Munkustrap, you just didn't want to believe it. Even Asparagus said it, you've got Father's eyes. Think it's a coincidence you were found two weeks after Old Deuteronomy's family was slaughtered? You had only been weaned for a few days then, correct?"

The silver tom was silent. What could he say?

Macavity gave a chilling smile. "How about a hug, little brother?"

Munkustrap turned and ran.

"Ground control to Major Tom," Todd sang softly. "Ground control to Major Tom,

Take your protein pills and put your helmet on…"

The garage was cluttered, but room had been made for amps, an old drum set, and a dust-coated keyboard that had been shoved off to the side.

Todd Hamilton was seventeen, and looked it. His hair was a dirty blond, more dirty than blonde, and came past his ears. His eyes were light blue, and he was dressed in the usual baggy jeans and black t-shirt. He was the lead guitar and main vocal for Blue Grotto.

Okay, so it wasn't a band so much as three people who attempted to play rock half decently. Besides him, there was Cain McNeil, a pale boy with long black hair that rarely spoke on bass, and Amber Tom on drums, even though she was a year younger than them.

They struggled through the song. It was painfully obvious that something was missing. They had once had another boy on keyboard, but he had up and moved to Ireland, leaving them. They finally finished, letting poor David Bowie's song limp away to nurse what was left of it's dignity.

"Well, that wasn't too bad…" the blond boy said, smiling weakly.

Cain gave a small snort of disbelief.

"We suck!" Amber scowled. "We need a pianist!"

"Yeah, but we've looked everywhere! There's no one who can carry a tune around these parts who's willing to spend their time with a bunch of losers like us!"

"There's got to be someone…" She racked her mind, but came up with nothing. "Maybe… Maybe we could put up posters somewhere that teaches piano or something."

"Like any respectful music teacher is going to let us do that," pointed out Todd.

Amber sighed, shoving her drumsticks into her book bag. "I've got to get going. I've got a ton of homework, and Mum's pissed because I failed my math test."

"I thought you failed your English test."

"… I did…"

He was silent for a moment before remarking "Well that sucks."

"Shut up," she scowled, grabbing her bag and heading out.

"What's her problem?" huffed Todd, scowling.

Cain just shrugged.

"Dad, I'm really worried. He said he'd only be a half an hour at the most, and he's been gone for hours," Rumpelteazer said in a hushed voice, not wanting to wake the sleeping kitten snuggled against her side.

Skimbleshanks gave a small shrug. "I don't know what to tell you. This isn't like Munkustrap at all… I saw him talking to your mother, and then he went somewhere and she wouldn't tell me what she had told him. Now, she just seems worried."

The queen sighed. "Your train leaves soon, you'd better get going. You don't want to delay the mail."

He nodded. "He'll probably be back any minute. Bye, love." Skimble quickly went up the stairs and out the door.

Rumpelteazer sighed again, looking down at the little ball of grey fur. Where on earth could he be…

A few minutes later, she looked up as Munkustrap descended the stairs, shaking slightly. She leapt up, helping him down. "What in the name of the Everlasting Cat happened to you?"

The silver tabby nodded over to where Deuteronomy was sleeping. "… I can't guard him anymore, Rumpelteazer…"

"What do you mean by that?"

"I can't…" he said, closing his cursed blue eyes as a few tears slipped out. "Not when my father killed so many members of his tribe, and my brother killed his family…" He told Rumpelteazer the entire story, including his meeting with Macavity.

The queen was speechless. "Munk…"

"I just came to say goodbye," the tabby said, wiping at his eyes. "I can't stay here. Asparagus knows, at least part of it. Everyone will probably know by tomorrow, I'll be banished for sure. I'm going to save the Jellicles the trouble of throwing me out and leave now."

"… Where will you go?"

"I don't know. I'm going to catch the ferry, go wherever that takes me. I'll try to make it to Ireland, maybe further. I just know that I can't stay around Deuteronomy. I… I'm scared that I'll end up like them, Cronus and Macavity. I won't endanger him. Tell Alonzo he's the Protector now."

"Munkustrap, don't you dare…"

"I'm leaving."

Rumpelteazer struck him across the face, nearly dropping him.

"Son of a…!"

"Get your head on straight, you stupid tom! You try to leave and I'll break all of your legs!"

"Why should you care!"

She pointed an orange paw at the sleeping kitten. "Old Deuteronomy is my grandfather, and you're the only one who can protect him. Alonzo's got three kittens now, and he's not nearly as good a fighter as you are. So smarten up before I knock your block off!"

"Since when do you get off…"

She hit him again, harder this time.

Munkustrap gave a slight whimper and pinned his ears back. "You are so much like your mother that it scares me."

Rumpelteazer smirked. "You're lucky I don't fix up that face of yours." She gave him a none-too-gentle swat on the ear for good measure. "Now you get into that basket and you go to sleep. I'll go talk to Asparagus, and see if I can't _convince_ him to keep his trap shut, if Mum hasn't gotten to him first."

"Aren't you afraid I'll leave?" he questioned, crawling into the basket.

"You wouldn't leave Deuteronomy alone, not with Bustopher Jones out and about. Now rest, you need it."

"Rumpelteazer?"

"Yes, Munkustrap?"

"… Could you please not tell anyone I was beaten up by a queen?"

She gave him an evil smile. "If the mood so suits me. Now sleep, or I'll knock you out."

Christine shut her science textbook, twirling her pen between her fingers and sighing. There had to be something more, something she was missing out on…

She had friends of course, people like her. On the outside looking in. But…

She sighed again, and made a grab for her math text. There was a major Algebra test the next morning, and Christine never liked to be caught unprepared.


	21. The Meeting

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AN: Sorry this took so long! Thanks to all my reviewers who've been waiting! This chapter mainly features the beginnings of the subplot, and Kel picked a hell of a time to break her collar bone. She can only type with one hand, and she's been spaced out on painkillers…

Kel: Actually, I just felt really crappy so I took my own sweet time doing this. Hope you enjoy!

Munkustrap sighed as he listened to the ruckus from the other side of the bathroom door. How on earth could a kitten who had been knocking on death's door less than twenty-four hours ago now be fighting off a human tooth and claw?

In an attempt to get the dried blood out of Deuteronomy's fur, the queen human had grabbed him while he was sleeping and had proceeded to put him in the bath. She had obviously thought that he'd be so tired that he'd sleep through it. She had obviously thought wrong.

Finally, a sea green towel bolted out of the bathroom, leaving a trail of water behind it. It ran straight into a wall.

The tabby sighed again, trotting over to the Jellicle leader and tugging the towel away from his face.

Deuteronomy's grey fur was in soggy spikes, and there was a scar on his throat that hadn't been there before. He wasn't too worried about that, however.

"It's freezing!" he shivered.

"You should have let the human dry you off properly," the tabby advised. "Just don't…"

The kitten shook himself violently, spraying soapy water everywhere within a six-foot radius.

"…shake…" Munkustrap finished weakly. "It seems like you're feeling better."

He gave a small shrug and the a smile.

"Misto! Mistoffelees! Magical Mister Mistoffelees, get your sparkly little butt out here!"

There was a scratching from the other side of the door, and the sound of footsteps.

"Alright, Judas, alright. No need to destroy the door!"

The door opened, and the tuxedo hurried out before it closed. "Hey, Tugger."

The Rum Tum Tugger raised an eyebrow. "Judas…"

"Aw, shut up. She had eleven cats before me, and every one of them was named after a disciple. One of those religious nuts, you know. Just my luck, I got stuck with the name of the bastard of the universe."

"Kind of a coincidence, isn't it?" the larger tom mused as both headed to the junkyard.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, Macavity called Bustopher Jones a Judas among the disciples, didn't he? Just that he's your uncle and everything… Kind of weird."

Mistoffelees swallowed dryly. "Yeah… Weird…"

Dr. Tom sighed as she walked past the examination room to lock up the front desk. It had been a week since that kitten had been brought it, and her daughter had given up her wild "theories" soon enough. But something still didn't feel right.

She put her ear close to the door, and what she heard troubled her. Silence. She couldn't remember a time when Amber hadn't had the radio on or was singing while she took care of the animals. It was possible that she was angry about her marks or that her mother didn't believe her about the kitten.

It was also quite possible that she was depressed. Amber didn't have many friends for very long, she had no siblings or cousins, and Dr. Tom herself was always so busy…

The vet sighed again, walking into the room. "Okay, what's up?"

Amber looked up from the sink where she'd been scrubbing her hands. "What do you mean?"

"You know perfectly well what I mean. You've been moping around for the past week now! I'm sorry if I shot down your reincarnation thing, but you've got to get over it!"

She gave a sigh. "It's not that. Now that I think it over, it was actually pretty stupid. It's just that… I keep thinking that I'm missing something. Something important."

"A social life, perhaps?"

"Look, I can't help it if those girls were complete…"

"You could try to be a little more cooperative, you know," the vet interrupted. "Friendship is and always has been a two way street. I'll admit, those future hookers weren't worth it. But you need to talk to people besides that older guy and his gothic Chia pet!"

Amber shut the water off rather violently and stormed out of the office. She planted herself on the front step, and made it her goal to glare at every single person who happened to pass by.

Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer were walking along the street, not on their way to the junkyard but simply trying to kill time. Jennyanydots was still mad with Jerrie, and Teazer was purposely avoiding her mother because the Gumbie Cat knew that she knew Munkustrap's little secret, and the younger queen didn't want to talk about it.

"Hey," the tom said, nodding towards a girl slowly making her way around the corner. "Isn't that Granddad's old human? Weird Girl?"

She looked in the direction shown, choosing to ignore the weird comment. "Yep, that's her. Her school gets out later than the public ones. Must of missed the bus or something."

"Doesn't look very happy, does she?"

"Hasn't for a while," Rumpelteazer remarked. "I've been keeping an eye on her. I don't think she has any real friends. She must be lonely."

"Couldn't we do something to help her? I mean, she did help Granddad get to the junkyard."

A plan started to form in his sister's head. "We passed by the clinic, and that daughter of the vet's was sitting there. She doesn't seem to hang around anybody most of the time."

Mungojerrie shook his head. "Probably not, she's there a lot. What are you suggesting?"

A mischievous grin spread across her face. "Standard 'duck and hawk' strategy, and then bolt for the clinic."

"Brilliant!"

"I claim hawk!" she hollered, racing towards the girl.

"No fair!" he protested, following her. "I'm always the duck!"

Christine plodded along the sidewalk, kicking at rocks. She didn't care that she was scuffing her shoes, either. She had been in a bit of a daze all day and had missed her bus call, so she was walking home.

Out of an alley, a striped tom bounded out and rubbed against her legs. His coat was so orange that it almost looked calico.

The girl bent down to run a hand along its back and smiled a bit at its purr. It was odd, a cat coming right up to a human… But it had a collar, so it obviously wasn't a stray, and she recognized it as a cat she had often seen at her house.

Rumpelteazer snuck up behind the human as she petted the decoy duck, her brother. She carefully reached out for the girl's dangling silver bracelet. She delicately lifted up the simple circle and hoop clasp with a claw, and pulled it off and down. She caught it in her mouth before it landed.

Mungojerrie gave her a pointed look, and she nodded in return.

The queen gave a loud meow, causing Christine to look behind her.

"Hey, there… Hey! That's my bracelet!"

Teazer and Mungojerrie bolted between her legs and down the street, nearly knocking her off of her feet.

"Nice work," winked Jerrie.

His sister, holding the bracelet in her mouth, gave a muffled reply.

"You take it from here, I'd better disappear." He crossed the street and slipped into a back alley to follow the chase from another street.

"You stupid cat! Come back here!" Christine ran after the cat, gaining on it as it rounded a corner. She gritted her teeth and made a grab for it, missing and nearly landing on her face. She stumbled but managed to remain standing.

Rumpelteazer felt herself be lifted up and wriggled in its grasp.

Amber kept a tight grip. She instantly recognized the cat, both by her fur pattern and the chaos that followed the queen. "Hey, Cinderella, what have you got in your mouth?" She took the bracelet without a struggle. "God, not again. Who's could this be?"

"Mine!" Christine gasped, out of breath. It wasn't all that easy to run in dress shoes and a pleated skirt. "There was another cat, a tom, looked just like her…"

"Ah, that would be Aladdin," she smiled, handing the bracelet over to her. "The two are twin demons, trust me. After the first time I treated them, I was short a watch and I never even noticed it was gone until an hour later when I went to take it off."

The dark haired girl gave a small smile, scratching the queen behind the ears gently. "I think I've seen them around, now that I've got a good look at them. They were around my cat a lot."

A look of understanding dawned on her. "Oh, you're… Catherine, isn't it?"

"Christine," she corrected. "Langille. And you are…"

"Amber Tom. Dr. Tom's daughter. You're the owner of that old grey tom she treated a few years ago, aren't you?"

She nodded. "If one can actually own a cat. Deu… Norrington. His name was Norrington."

"I knew it was from Pirates of the Caribbean!"

"… I haven't seen it."

"It kicks ass. Sorry about your cat, I kind of liked him. Wasn't to fond of me, though. Tried to take a chunk out of my hand."

Christine gave a sympathetic wince. "He didn't like strangers, I think I warned your mother about it."

"Hey, the Johnson's have a kitten that they need a home for, looks a lot like Norrington did. If you're looking for a new cat, I could give you their number."

"I… I'm not really looking for one right now. This is going to sound crazy, but I'd feel like I was replacing him."

"I don't think it's stupid," Amber insisted. "You can't replace a best friend just by going out and getting another one."

Rumpelteazer gave a long meow, and the redhead released her. The queen ran as fast as she could into the alley where her brother was waiting.

"Mission accomplished," she winked. "There's our good deed for the week, let's go check out that security system on that new mansion."

"Hey, umm…" started the redhead awkwardly. "You… want to come up to the flat and grab a soda or something? If you're not doing something else, anyway…"

"… I'm not doing anything else. I'd love to," Christine replied, smiling shyly.

The two girls hurried upstairs, Amber thankful that they didn't meet her mother. The doctor was a bit nosy when it came to her daughter's social life.

A paper with red markings on the kitchen table caught Christie's eye. It was an English test, and a poor one at that.

Amber followed her gaze, and gave a sheepish grin. "Ibsen's Enemy of the People. I hate stuff like that, it's so boring."

"Ibsen's my favourite author, actually," was the soft reply as she picked up the test, scanning it. "What were your final impressions of the play? … Don't go to bathhouses in Norway… I really think you missed the point entirely."

"My mind drew a blank, okay? What was I supposed to put?"

"The influence and power of the media, maybe? The truth about the freedom of the press? The cover-ups of politicians? Something about mob psychology or the errors of the democratic process?"

"God, are you a genius or something?"

"No, I just read a lot. I don't have much of a life outside books, really…"

"Know what that's like…" she admitted. "Only I throw myself into the clinic. I really love animals. Even if some of them don't exactly like me. Besides, Mum needs the help. There's three other assistants, but two of them are trust fund brats and complete slackers, and the other's only an intern."

"Really? I thought… I thought someone like you would have plenty of friends."

"Yeah, well, I don't really play well with others."

"Meaning…"

"Er, forget about it. Want to watch a movie or something?"

Christine smiled. "Sure!"

"Monty Python and the Holy Grail okay?"

"Who?"

Amber raised an auburn eyebrow. "You've never seen Monty Python?"

The other girl shook her head.

She gestured towards the TV. "Come on, then. I've lots to teach you about the miracle that is Python."

The next day, Dr. Tom walked by the examination room and smiled when she heard something that usually made her cringe.

"In this quiet night, I'm waiting for you

Forgetting the past and dreaming of you

Time passes by and memories fade

But time can't erase this love that we've made"

The veterinarian shook her head. She'd probably never figure that kid out…

"And the stars in the sky that I wish upon

Can't bring you back to my side

Though you're not here with me

I dream of the day when we'll meet again…"

That night was just like every other night for Amber and Christine. Both were at home, up late with a new book. Both were reading with amazed interest. The only difference was that Amber was reading Shakespeare's _Macbeth_, and Christine was reading Douglas Adam's _Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_.

"hold me close, look deep in your heart

I will find you, no matter where I am

So go and dream of me, for I will be there

Follow the stars that lead

Into the quiet night…"


	22. The Prank

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AN: Okay, Kel worked some numbers and the future plot blew up in our faces. So while we put it back together… Yay, filler chapter! Also, if it hasn't been made ridiculously clear, there will eventually be Christine/Amber slash. If it bugs you, either get a life of skip over those parts.

"No! Nada! Absolutely not!"

"Tugger, please! Munkustrap and the rest of us will be busy!"

"So why am I not at this little meeting!"

"It's only Munkustrap, Rumpelteazer, and the older cats. But Alonzo and Cassandra are busy with the newborns, Jemima and Victoria are spending the day together, Demeter and Savon are in the park, Mungojerrie and Juana need time alone, I can't find Plato or Bombalurina, and no one else is old enough. You and Mistoffelees are the only ones left!"

"Jenny, I cannot care for kittens!"

"It's just for an hour or so! Between the two of you, I'm sure you can handle four little kits!"

"One of them is magical, might I add!"

"So what? And so is Mistoffelees! Rum Tum Tugger, please!"

"Oh, fine," he relented. "But you owe me!"

The queen nodded. "They're right outside. I have to go, I'm already late…."

The tom slowly sauntered out to where his tuxedoed friend was keeping a close eye on Gus, Grizabella, Chelonian, and a fully recovered Deuteronomy. All looked as if they should have had horns sticking up out of their heads.

"Listen up you four," he said sternly. "I'm not going to put up with any of your tricks today, got it? Especially not from you, Mini Mage." He pointed a paw at Deuteronomy. "No funny stuff, alright? I've got nothing against getting Mistoffelees here to put you in a bubble for the rest of the week."

"I could just shatter it," smirked Deuteronomy.

Misto gave an evil grin. "Not if it's ten feet above the ground you couldn't."

"Now go play over there," ordered the Tugger. "Don't go around unstable piles of scrap metal, don't eat anything if you don't know what it is, and try not to kill each other! Come on, Misto, let's catch a catnap."

The four were herded off, and they immediately dropped their voices to hushed whispers.

"I've got a plan," the Jellicle leader said softly, retracting a claw and drawing a very rough picture in the dust. "We'll need a few things. Griz, Chel, can you get a bucket of water?"

The queen kits nodded. "We'll put in what Gus told us to put in yesterday," added Grizabella with a grin.

"Gus, think you can find something that looks like Jemima's collar?"

The theatre cat nodded, a grin spreading over his face as he studied the plan.

"Good, then that leaves the paint to me. Meet back here once you've got the supplies. You two put the bucket right up on that ledge."

The other three nodded, and set out into the junkyard while their "caretakers" dozed off in the sun.

"Nah nah! Can't catch me!" taunted Deuteronomy, laughing as the Rum Tum Tugger nipped at his tail.

"Come back, you little…" The larger tom caught himself before he used a few words Munkustrap was sure to get him for later. "I'll teach you to pounce on me!"

"Now!" the kit cried out, disappearing into a pile of junk.

Chelonian and Grizabella threw themselves against the bucket of water, tipping it over.

Mistoffelees, who had followed to watch the excitement, was quicker. He held out a paw, enclosing the liquid in a transparent blue bubble above the Rum Tum Tugger's head, the bucket falling with a clatter well out of the way. "I'm afraid you four will have to do better than that."

Gus leaned over the pile of junk, fighting off a grin. "I guess you're just too smart for us. We'll never be able to fool you two genii."

"I happen to be an Aries, wise guy!" shot back the Tugger.

The tuxedo felt like smacking himself on the forehead. "Genii is the plural form of genius, you idiot."

His ears wilted. "Oh…"

After the two adults had left, the kittens regrouped.

"The first part went exactly as planned," Deuteronomy said, flashing a grin at the two queens. "Now make a puddle, right under the magic bubble like Gus said. You've got the collar?"

The Theatre Cat pushed forward an old collar, broken and dirty but somewhat resembling the one Jemima wore.

"Excellent. I'll get Tugger with the paint, but this time it won't only be his tail. Now let's go!"

"Now, we've gathered here today because some rather disturbing information has been brought to the surface," Jennyanydots said, panning her gaze across the group.

Jenny, Skimbleshanks, Rumpelteazer, Munkustrap, Jellylorum, and Asparagus Jr. were all seated in a clearing some ways in, away from the tire area. All that was needed was for the truth to get out among the tribe.

"It has been discovered that Munkustrap's father is Cronus, therefore his brother is Macavity," Jennyanydots said bluntly,

There was an unsettling silence among the cats. No one dared to speak, until the Jellicle Protector took a deep breath and opened his mouth.

"I understand what you must be thinking. I will willingly leave, if you believe that is what's best for the tribe." The tabby bowed his head low, not letting them see his eyes.

"Leave the tribe?" Jellylorum asked, actual fear in her voice. "Munkustrap, no!"

"You never mentioned that…" the Gumbie Cat said softly.

"He did to me," whispered Rumpelteazer. She nudged the tom gently. "You can't go, Munk. We need a Protector. Lyghtside, we need a leader."

"My brother killed three Jellicles," Munkustrap said, keeping his head lowered. "My father killed more. Both had probably killed before, and Macavity has probably killed many after. How can I stay when I know that I share that blood?"

"Deuteronomy needs you," spoke up Skimbleshanks. "He needs a guardian as well as a bodyguard. No one else can fill those roles. Stay, Munkustrap."

"We don't care about your blood," Asparagus added. "I lost my brother to Cronus, and I still see you as Old Deuteronomy's own progeny. You're not like those two, Munkustrap. You never have been, and you probably never will."

Those words comforted him more than the older tom could ever know. "… Thank you."

"So you'll stay?" the Railway Cat prodded.

He raised his head. "Yes, I'll stay."

"Good. Then I won't have to break your legs."

"Skimbleshanks!"

"Dad!"

"What?"

"You little…" The Rum Tum Tugger couldn't conjure up words hateful enough to describe the kitten. "Argh!"

"So you're a pirate now!" laughed Deuteronomy. "I've got a great name for you, Tugger! Blue Mane!"

"I'm going to pluck you like a Sunday chicken, you little monkey!"

"Not if you can't catch me!"

At least half of the tom's fur, his beautiful, shiny, ebony black and perfectly leopard-spotted fur, had been splashed with sky blue paint, including his luxurious, silky mane. No cat messed with the mane. Not even the Jellicle leader. His goose was cooked.

Meanwhile, it was taking every ounce of willpower Mistoffelees possessed not to fry Gus into a cinder. He had somehow gotten his paws on Jemima's collar, and was currently being both annoying and elusive.

"Gonna have to do better than that, Tux!" the kit taunted, his voice muffled through the collar. He saw Deuteronomy dart up a junk pile with Tugger behind him and grinned.

The Rum Tum Tugger and Misto nearly collided at the foot of the pile. The magician blinked at the sight of his friend.

"Um, Tugger? You're blue."

"I know that," he growled.

He looked down. "We're also standing in water."

"Are we? … What in Heaviside…"

Deuteronomy aimed carefully, and sent a shot of green magic towards the bubble of water suspended overtop the pair. It broke.

"Oh damn," were the Tugger's only words.

Mistoffelees tried to stop it, but they were drenched before he could do anything. Unfortunately, something did happen afterwards. The water had been mixed with salt at Gus's insight, and was a very good conductor for electricity and magic. And considering the toms were both drenched and standing in water…

"Now," Munkustrap said slowly and calmly, all while fighting off laughter. "Tell me again what happened."

"That kitten is the Eternal Pollicle in feline form!" raved the Rum Tum Tugger. "I say we strap him to a dunking stool!"

"I say we lock him in your human's basement for a month," Mistoffelees spat bitterly, trying to smooth his fur down. The singed fur didn't show up on his dark fur, but his white bib was now more of a burnt brown colour.

Deuteronomy was doing his best to look completely innocent. "Tug?" he said rather sweetly. "Your tail's on fire, you know."

The tom gave him a look of loathing.

The kit licked his paw, and pressed it down on the small flame and it extinguished it with a hiss. He gave a hopeful smile. "There! Good as new!"

"I'll kill him!" The tom lunged, but Munkustrap and Mistoffelees managed to hold him back.

"Could you please act like an adult, Tugger?" the silver tabby sighed. "He's a kitten, he doesn't know better."

"Doesn't know better, my mane!"

"Your blue mane," added the tuxedo with a grin.

"Shut up, Stoff. And what ever happened to him being the Jellicle leader, hmm?"

"Well…" Munkustrap paused. He actually didn't have an answer for that. What _had _happened to Deuteronomy being the Jellicle leader instead of a kitten?

"Look," he finally said, his voice weaker than he would have liked it to been. "We'll compromise, okay? Mistoffelees, Tugger, your humans will take you to the groomer and get you both clipped and cleaned up. If the paint won't come out, Misto can magic it out. And Deuteronomy, you're hereby grounded for a week and three days. You stay with me at all times, and you're not allowed to play with the other kittens for that length."

The grey kitten groaned, but grudgingly nodded.

"Now apologize."

Another groan. "I'm sorry I got the queens to try to douse you with water."

"And…"

"And I'm sorry I used my magic for goofing off."

"And…"

"And I'm sorry that I tricked Mistoffelees into using his magic for goofing off."

"And…" growled the Rum Tum Tugger.

"And I'm very, very sorry I dumped paint on you."

The tuxedo cleared his throat. "And the shocking."

"Okay, I didn't plan that. You're the one who caused that, not me."

"But the water was mixed with salt!"

"Gus's idea."

"Deuteronomy…" Munkustrap said sternly.

He sighed. "Fine, fine. I'm sorry you got shocked, even though you should have more sense than that. Can I go now?"

"No, but Mistoffelees and the Rum Tum Tugger can. You're to stay within my eyesight at all times, got it?"

The two other toms left, and the silver tabby's face cracked into a smile. "You planned all that?"

"Yeah, except for the saltwater part."

"How'd you know it would work?"

He shrugged. "Just did."

Munkustrap shook his head. "Come on, let's go home and see if the human put lunch out. And try to behave yourself from now on, okay? You are still the Jellicle leader."

"Amber? Amber Tom? Christine, take my advice and lose her. She's no good."

"You've never even met her!" the black-haired girl protested, fidgeting where she sat on the computer desk. "How do you know what she's like?"

"I used to take a group music class with her, wondered what she was up to and looked her up in the school registry. Thought it was interesting and put it onto a disk," replied Adriana, typing away furiously on the keyboard. The three teens were in the computer lab on lunch break.

"She was in my class when I went to her school," added Mark. "She's not normal."

"So says the one with the blue hair," she pointed out. "What did her record say? Wait, let me guess, she's an axe murderer."

"She's been in three major fights this semester alone," the dark-skinned girl replied, producing and sliding a disc into the hard drive. "She mouths off to the teachers. Her marks are atrocious. She cheated on her last English test."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Look at these marks up until that test," Mark said, pointing at them. "Forties, fifties, the highest one is a sixty-three. And look at this one, eighty-five. No way that just happened on its own."

Christine felt a twinge of pride. That was the one she had helped her study for. The two had been spending most of their time together for two weeks, and there were improvements for both of them as far as school went.

"She's not the sort you should be hanging around," Adriana warned.

She was about to tell the girl exactly what she thought of that, but she was interrupted.

"Christine Langille, please report to the headmaster's office."

That was the worst possible thing one could hear over the PA system at Drake Academy. Headmaster Stobbe was a tall man with silver hair and piecing blue eyes that could glare over the tops of his horn rim glasses in a way that took years to prefect. He was a busy man. He only met with students who were _really _in trouble.

So it was only understandable that Christine was shaking slightly as she knocked on the double oak doors of his office. What had she done…

"Come in," instructed the firm, commanding voice.

She made sure her tie was straight and walked into the office.

The headmaster glanced at her over his glasses before returning his gaze to the file in front of him. "Sit."

She did.

"Christine Langille… Middle name Margaret?"

"Yes, sir." She hated that name more than anything. She didn't care that it was her grandmother's name. It was just plain… _dorky_.

"Well, Miss Langille, do you know why I called you to my office?"

"I can't say I do, sir."

He held up a page of her file. A report from her Math teacher.

Christine gulped.

"I've been looking over your marks and comments from your teachers." Headmaster Stobbe stated. "And I am extremely impressed."

This caught her off-guard. "Really?"

"Yes, really. Now, I saw a bit of a dip a while back, but it raised right back up. What was that about, if I may be so bold to ask?"

"Er, some personal issues, sir. Problems at home." _He must not have records from my old school… As for the dip, let's see you concentrate on your studies while your parents are having a screaming match right above you._

"Ah…" he said, making a rather neutral noise. No educator wanted to dive deeper into _problems at home_. Still, he was required to say… "You know you can come to me with anything, Miss Langille?"

"Yes, sir." _The last thing I _ever_ want to do is come back into this office._

"Well, in any case, they bounced back. Your marks, that is. Your latest test was three tenths of away from a ninety-eight." That test had been on multiplying fractions. He thought he was being funny, the key word being _thought_.

"Really, sir? I haven't gotten that one back yet."

"As for your other subjects this semester… Well, I'm sure you know. You're top of your class in Chemistry, you're doing extremely well in Art, and I had to check your English scores twice, it's rather remarkable. Er, pardon the pun."

"Pardoned, sir."

"Your last paper… Rather well done, above your grade level."

"Thank you, sir." _I borrowed a CD from Amber. No Vacancy drowns out the hollering extremely well._

"Since you are obviously not being properly challenged at your current grade level, we, the administration, are considering putting you in courses with a higher grade level next semester."

"You're… You're bumping me up?" she stammered out.

"There will be an exam on the final day before winter break, Miss Langille. If you pass that, you will be 'bumped up' next semester, meaning one or more of your subjects will be the next grade level, and the rest will be advanced courses. Do you have any problems with that?"

"No, sir! Not at all, sir!"

"Good. You may go."

Christine did go, as fast as she could without tripping. She managed until she got outside of the office, then she fell face-first into a student carting a tray of test tubes to the chemistry lab. The only word sufficient to describe what followed was the word "Eep".


End file.
